


Keep Him Safe

by Minglisabeth



Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Adopted Children, Adoption, Angst, Drama, Established Relationship, Family Feels, Family Fluff, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Fluff and Humor, Hurt/Comfort, Kid Fic, Kidnapping, M/M, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Post-Canon, Protective Sylvain Jose Gautier, Soft Felix Hugo Fraldarius
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-01-22
Updated: 2021-01-07
Packaged: 2021-02-27 07:34:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 15
Words: 38,862
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22363426
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Minglisabeth/pseuds/Minglisabeth
Summary: Felix didn't believe in fate or the Goddess.But then the universe had given him Sylvain, kept them safe during the war, and he began to question his disbelief.Years later he finds himself holding a toddler, a dying woman telling him to keep her son safe… and he finally accepts that someone in the sky has plans for him… whether he wants them or not.AKA how Felix and Sylvain became parents.
Relationships: Felix Hugo Fraldarius/Sylvain Jose Gautier
Comments: 148
Kudos: 541





	1. Chapter 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Takes place about...3ish years after the game. Felix is around 25.

Two weeks.

He had promised Sylvain he'd only be gone for two weeks.

A day to the coast, three days by boat to the port of Edmund, another two to get to Derdriu, a day or two doing whatever negotiations Dimitri needed him to do, then the exact same return journey. 

And now here he was weeks later, freezing his ass off in the damned middle of nowhere in Leicester territory he barely recalled studying the layout of during his time at the monastery. An unexpected and early winter storm funneled ice from the north sea into the narrow bay between the Sreng peninsula and the main Fodlan continent, cutting Felix off from returning to Fraldarius territory by boat for  _ months _ according to Claude’s scholars. 

Claude suggested he settle in and wait out the winter in the Leicester capital, so suavely offering him rooms in his own manor to stay in.

Felix had vehemently spat out that he would rather die. Perhaps in the past he wouldn’t have cared where he spent the winter. But as… fucking sappy as it sounded… he had someone to come home to now. Someone who was waiting for him, who had been expecting him to be home days ago.

If the sea tried to keep him away from Sylvain, Felix would just go by land.

Goddess… all he wanted was to be home. He and Sylvain hadn’t spent more than a week apart since Sylvain had given up his title at the end of the war, abandoning his nobility in order to spend his life with Felix. The rock at his side as Felix became the Duke of Fraldarius.

He wasn’t even ashamed of his…  _ neediness _ anymore. Almost losing each other time after time, battle after battle did that to a man. It made him selfish, taking everything Sylvain would give him. Sylvain would argue that it made Felix generous, pointing out that Felix was finally willing to give away his heart when he had kept it from Sylvain for so long.

Felix… was loathe to admit that was true, but it was. Whatever Sylvain wanted, Felix would give it to him. His heart, his love, his dukedom, whatever the redhead wanted so long as he stayed by Felix’s side.

_ All I want is you Fe. You’re everything I’ve ever wanted. _

The memory of those words and the ghosts of Sylvain’s kisses against his skin were the exact reason Felix could not just sit and wait the entire winter in Claude’s manor. On horseback, goddess willing, he could be home in four more weeks. Longer than he had promised Sylvain, but at least it wasn’t months.

He’d sent a messenger bird, informing Sylvain of his travel plans. Claude had lent him the service of a sturdy mare, a tent, and enough supplies to reach Galatea where he could easily arrange passage back to his own territory. Claude had also tried to send him with men, but Felix refused. He could travel faster on his own.

Then the weather turned again.

\----------------------------------------------------------------

“My lord. It has been days. There are matters of estate you are needed for.”

“Find someone else.” Sylvain grumbled, eyes still trained on the sea before him.

“There is no one else my lord. The Duke has given only you the authority to act in his name.”

“Then I give you the authority Humfery.”

“That… that is not how it works Sylvain.” Humfery reached out to put his hand on Sylvain’s shoulder.

Sylvain turned at the casual touch, surprised to see Felix’s normally stoic manservant with a sad smile.

“I’ve known you both since you were babes.” Humfery said. “I worry too, but he’s not yet that long overdue. And look at the water, you and I both know a crossing in this would spell his death.”

“That’s what I’m worried about.” Sylvain grumbled, turning back. The sky was so dark it mirrored the sea, impossible to discern where water ended and air began. “He’s stubborn.”

“Aye he is.” Humfery agreed. “But not so much as to throw his life away. I have no doubts he is… reluctantly waiting with the Duke Riegan.”

Sylvain hoped the man was right, but worry plagued his gut. He should have gone with Felix. Hell, he should have gone in Felix’s place. Just because he wasn’t... technically noble anymore didn’t mean he couldn’t deliver a few goddamn papers and say some fancy words. He could certainly do the latter better than  _ Felix _ . His porcupine of a boyfriend was surely offending the Alliance roundtable more than sending plain old title-less Sylvain would have.

But Dimitri had insisted his ambassador had to be a ranking member of his court. Which left a terminally ill Count Galatea, an aging Margrave Gautier, and the new Duke Fraldarius as the only nobles along the western border that could get there in time. And since Count Galatea could barely even move and the new King trusted Sylvain’s father even less than Sylvain did, that left Felix.

The memory of their last night together rattled around Sylvain’s mind. Tangled up together, promises of returning soon whispered against sweaty skin. The depth of feelings that words could not describe were told in desperate gasps and and choked of cries of each others names. Their love written like ink to paper in bruises bitten and sucked over pale and freckled skin.

Sylvain absentmindedly lifted a hand to his neck. The bruise had faded, the memory of Felix’s mouth had not.

“Where are you Feef?” His question was quiet, almost lost to the wind.

\---------------------------------------------------

“Fucking.. _ hells _ .” Felix groaned as he squinted around. He could barely see his own hands, let alone the path. He swore he hadn’t been more than an hour from the next town. But he’d been riding for nearly three and what little ambient light that could be found in this blizzard was fading. The fact that he could at least still hear the river was the only sign that he was still near the road at all.

He swung off his horse, sweeping the ground with both his eyes and feet in an attempt to find the wagon ruts that would signal he was still on course. But the snow and mud were mixing into an ungodly icy mess that covered any such signs.

He scowled and pulled his cloak tighter around himself. The temperature was dropping too. He’d planned on staying the night at an inn his map assured him the next town had, but he had no desire to freeze to death looking for it. He’d have to find somewhere to hunker down.

He remained on his feet, tugging his horse off in a vague direction he hoped was west. He trudged until he found a relatively sheltered outcropping of oak trees. He tied his horse under the thickest one he could find and dug out a little hollow in the snow for himself to bed down in. He didn’t bother pitching his tent, just threw the canvas over himself.

He didn’t think he’d sleep much, would just have to wait until it was light enough to keep going.  _ Just like old times,  _ he thought as he curled up as best he could. Except it wasn’t. Every night he spent in a ditch during the war… he’d at least had Sylvain. He used to complain when the redhead wrapped himself around him like a limpet... He thinks he might kill for it now.

Four fucking weeks. 

He couldn’t even remember the last time he’d gone so long without seeing Sylvain.

He was going to kill Dimitri, treason or not.

\------------------------------------

Felix may have dozed off once or twice, but as he expected, mostly spent the night shivering.

The minute the glow of pre-dawn was light enough to see, he emerged from his little shelter. A healthy amount of snow had to be shaken off his tent canvas before it could be rolled up and strapped to his horse who luckily, looked no worse for wear.

The storm had passed, leaving a thick blanket of white everywhere Felix could see. He walked his horse back toward the sound of the river and was pleasantly surprised to come across fresh horse tracks. A  _ lot _ of tracks.

"I believe we've found the road." He said quietly to his mare as he swung up into his saddle. It was easy enough in the light now to spot the mountain range he needed to be heading for. He pointed his horse in that direction and forced down a bit of hardtack and dried meat from a saddle bag while they moved.

The ride was silent.

He surprisingly, did not enjoy that. Yes he would prefer Sylvain's endless chatter on a horse at his side. But he also couldn't help but recall, with fondness, several of the long wartime marches made more bearable by Annette and Mercedes singing, Ashe and Ingrid's animated discussion about some book they found in the last town. He even found himself missing Linhardt's snoring and Caspar's borderline screeching at waking the man up.

Felix smirked at the memory of the pair. He had  _ hated _ them during their academy days. When the professor invited Caspar and Linhardt to join the Blue Lions, Felix had nearly defected to  _ Claude _ just to get away. Looking back now, he knew part of the reason he couldn't stand them tho, was because they had figured out all their feelings and shit long before he had. He hadn't realized the burning in his gut every time he saw them kiss or overheard tender words was jealousy. The pair had with each other, everything he wanted himself with Sylvain.

Felix's unintentional trip down memory lane was cut short when he noticed that the grooves of wagon tracks had appeared intermixed with hoof prints along the snowy, muddy road. Tracks that followed the road for some distance before angling abruptly to the north and… off the road… Off the ledge that dropped down to the river bank as well.

He frowned and dismounted, following the tracks to peer over into the river where his heart promptly dropped.

Sure enough, a wagon lay on it's side, half in the river and half on the bank. An ox was laid out in the water, limbs dashed out at unnatural angles. The body of a man also kay crumbled on the riverbank.

But what unsettled Felix the most was the fact that the wagon, ox, and man were all peppered with arrows.

_ Bandits. _

He really needed to get moving, especially with bandits on the road. 

He was turning away when a glint caught his eye. A sword, embedded in one of the wagon wheels. But something was off about it.

Felix carefully slid down the embankment to the wagon and yanked out the sword, his heart dropping for a second time. This blade was not made in Faerghus. It's curved blade shape and distinctive star shaped pommel… this blade was made in  _ Sreng. _

"What the  _ fuck _ ?" Felix breathed. Either he was very  _ very  _ lost, or Srengi bandits had ventured  _ much _ further than Felix has ever seen. He'd take the sword as proof and send word back to Claude the minute he reached the next town. He took out a dagger of his own and started to cut away a strip of canvas from the wagon cover to wrap the blade in when a  _ gasp _ from  _ inside _ the half submerged wagon froze him in place.

"Is someone in there?" He called out, backing away. He sheathed his dagger in favor of drawing his actual sword, the Srengi blade abandoned at his feet.

" _ Help _ ." A raspy, feminine voice called out. More importantly, called out in the Faerghus common tongue. 

Felix wasted no time, using the spokes of the wagon wheel as a ladder he scampered up onto its side, ripping away the canvas to peer inside. A woman stared up at him with glazed, unfocused eyes. He would have thought her dead if she hadn't been visibly breathing. Dark red stained her brown dress, pouring from an arrow embedded in her side, all the way to mix with the icy water her legs were submerged in.

"Hang on. I will get you-" 

" _ No."  _ The woman breathed. "Too late… for me."

Felix jumped down into the overturned wagon, boots splashing in the shallow water. 

"You… Sreng?" The woman asked, sounding as though every word had to be forced.

"No. Im from Faerghus." Felix said, squatting beside her. She… did not look good. He reached out toward her wound, fingertips glowing with the one minor healing spell the professor had forced him to learn all those year ago.

He touched her skin a scant moment before she caught his wrist.

"Too late. For me." She repeated. "You…. You take my son and  _ leave _ ."

"Your son?" 

"Tristan." She rasped, pointing toward a fallen crate. Felix followed her point and his eyes went wide when he saw a pair of green eyes looking back at him.

"Oh fuck." Felix breathed.

"They are coming  _ back _ . You need to take him and go." 

"I can't-" Felix's protest was lost to the sudden sound of a horn. A war horn. One he hadn't heard since the last time Sreng outlaws had made it into Fraldarius territory. It was some ways off, but approaching quickly.

_Fuck._ _He had left his horse in plain sight._

" _ Please _ ." The woman pleaded. "I lost the feeling in my legs hours ago. Please take him. Please keep him safe."

Felix prided himself on his cool head. When another sound of that horn blasted, he knew he wasn't saving this woman. The kid tho… maybe Felix could get him out. 

Thinking quickly, he stood and grabbed the kid. He didnt look more than two or three years old. He was half wrapped in the remnants of someone else's cloak and Felix noted how  _ limp  _ the kid was, not even struggling when a stranger scooped him up.

"Please." The woman pleaded again.

Felix looked at her and held the kid against his chest before nodding.

"I will do what I can." He promised, a deel sympathetic part of his heart breaking when the woman smiled. He forced himself to smile back before he turned to climb back out, a hand on his cloak stopping him.

"Can you leave your dagger?" The woman pointed at his belt. "I would not suffer more."

Felix stared a moment before he understand just what she was asking. Careful of the child he now carried, he pulled out his small blade and handed it to her wordlessly.

"What is your name?" She asked.

"Felix." He said.

"Go Felix. Keep him safe."

Felix swallowed heavily and nodded before climbing out of the wagon. He scooped up his own sword and the Sreng sword before he scrambled back up the embankment. He practically  _ leapt _ onto his horse, the kid still tucked against his chest, held there safely with one of Felix's arms. He quickly assessed which direction the horns were coming from and forced his mare into as much of a gallop as she could manage in the opposite direction.

He hated to run but he couldnt fight an unknown enemy, in unknown numbers AND take care of this child.

So they ran. Deeper into the woods.

And farther from home.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Literally the only thing I write is characters somehow acquiring kids. I promise more fluff is imbound.
> 
> My first non-bnha fic.
> 
> If you want me to continue this please drop me a comment!!!!


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Felix needs to make a decision.
> 
> Does he leave the kid to save himself?

_Coward bastard ship captains too scared to sail in a little ice._

_Not waiting. Taking a horse from the golden boy. Taking the Daphnel pass. Will send word when I get to Galatea._

_Nothing better be fucking on fire by the time I get back._

_You know how I feel._

_Felix._

Sylvain laughed as he read the letter. It was so… so _Felix_. He relished in the relief that flooded his system, his last couple nights of nightmares about Felix drowning at sea disappearing from his mind. 

_You know how I feel._

“I love you too Feef.” Sylvain chuckled. He hummed, pleased, as he read the letter again. He trailed his finger down Felix’s sharp, chicken-scratch handwriting, over his signature and the date…

The date.

“H-Humfery?” Sylvain called out, standing up.

“Yes sir?”

“Who did you say brought this letter?”

“A messenger from the Conand hawk-master.” Humfery responded.

“When did they get it?” 

“I believe he said they received the bird from Derdriu Tuesday.”

“Tuesday.” Sylvain repeated. Every inch of worry that had left him came flooding back. He dropped the letter, shoving stacks and _stacks_ of papers off of Felix’s desk. In the back of his mind he realized his boyfriend would probably be pissed off by the action, even more pissed that Sylvain hadn’t yet done any of the paperwork he had promised he would take care of while Felix was gone. 

But for now he could only focus on flinging everything to the side until he got to the map of Fodlan Felix had tacked to his desk. He found the Daphnel pass with east, followed it’s road back to Derdriu, did a couple quick calculations in his head.

“ _Shit._ ” Sylvain breathed.

“Sir?”

“He sent this almost two weeks ago Humfery. And… and if they didn’t get it till Tuesday…” Sylvain looked up at him. “He should have made it to the Galatea outpost at the other end of the pass by now.”

“Perhaps he has sir.” Humfery offered.

“No. No I know Ingrid and Ashe are there. They would have sent word.”

“It has been stormy sir. Perhaps it has delayed any letters.”

“It’s been stormy… And Felix is late…” Sylvain looked up at Humfery. “Have someone prepare my horse.”

“Sir you can’t-”

“Try and stop me Humfery.” Sylvain said, already at his wardrobe, digging out his traveling clothes. He didn’t care if the fraldarius wheat consortium had to wait for their damn corp report to be signed. If hs Felix was in trouble, there wasn’t a force on earth that would keep Sylvain from him.

\----------------------------------------------

Felix pushed and _pushed_ his mount. He hadn’t ridden like this since the day he found out Sylvain was giving his father a formal renunciation of his nobility. He’d made it to Gautier territory just in time to flee with his _lover_ before the Gautier patriarch could murder him. Not that the man hadn’t tried. Felix had to push the horse nearly as hard on the way back just to outpace the Gautier militia.

He preferred that experience. Despite the peril, Sylvain had been there, giggling into the nape of Felix’s neck, a warm pair of arms holding him close around the middle.

There was no laughter now. And it was cold as _shit._

He rode for almost two hours, doubling back over his own path multiple times to confuse anyone who might be tracking him.

Tracking... _them._

When Felix was absolutely sure no one was on his tail, he finally eased his horse to a stop in a small clearing, giving her a break and him time to check on his passenger. He peeled the little bundle away from his chest and frowned. The kid was pale...yet had the reddest flush Felix had ever seen. He was limp and noodly in Felix’s arms, head flopping as he moved him. His eyes weren’t shut, but they weren’t fully open either, fluttering half-shut and unfocused.

“Um… Hey. Hey kid.” Felix patted the kids cheek. “You with me?”

Nothing.

“Fucking _hell._ ” Felix breathed, he bit one of his gloved fingers to tug it off. When he reached back out to touch the kid’s face he almost physically recoiled at the sheer _heat_ coming off of it. “Shit kid. How long were you in that freezing wagon.”

“Shit shit shit shit.” Felix chanted as he swung off the horse. He cradled the kid as gently as he could in one arm while he fished in a saddle bag with the other. He pulled out a small bottle and yanked the cork out with his teeth, spitting it somewhere to the side. He let the kids head flop back and held open his mouth.

“I don’t even know if this shit works on fevers.” He mumbled as he dumped half a vulnerary straight down the boys throat. He chucked the bottle off into the snow and clamped the kids mouth shut, tilting his head back to force him to swallow.

The boy gurgled a bit but otherwise, didn’t change.

Felix sighed and looked around. The woods here were pretty thick. Thick and _unfamiliar_ . He had no clue where he was anymore. It was quiet too, Felix realized with disappointment. Without the sound of the river, finding the road again was going to be nearly impossible. Not that he was in a hurry to get to the road if fucking _Sreng_ bandits were terrorizing it.

How the _fuck_ did they get so far south!? Felix was going to have to have one hell of a chat with the Margrave Gautier about his border patrol responsibilities.

Felix groaned and looked around. Trees. Fucking trees everywhere. And absolutely not a fucking other landmark that Felix could use to triangulate his position.

Being lost wasn’t something he handled well. And being lost in the woods with a sick kid literally sounded like the stuff of his nightmares. 

“Fuck you Boar king.” He said out loud. “Fuck you making me go on these dumb political trips. What the hell did I-”

Felix stopped talking when the kid in his arms whined and reached out, little fingers fisting in Felix’s overcoat.

“Mama.” The boy whined.

“Sorry kid. Not your Mother.” Felix said.

In response the boy whimpered and pulled himself closer, nuzzling up into Felix’s neck.

“Uh… no that’s not um…” Felix felt himself flush and he tried to pull the kid away, but the little bastard had surprising grip strength. “Come on kid. I can’t find a way out of here if you’re grabbing onto me.”

Felix reached up and physically pried the kids hand off his coat, one little finger at a time. “Come on you little leech-”

Felix froze when the little boy spasmed for a second before pushing back to look at Felix with wide green eyes, partially obscured by light brown curls that were plastered to the kids face by either sweat or melted snow, Felix didn’t know. 

He and Felix stared at each other for what felt like an eternity before quite suddenly the child’s face got all...wrinkled up. Felix realized what was about to happen far too late to stop it.

“Oh no. No no no no-” Felix’s eyes went wide just as the kid opened his mouth and started to _wail._ Above them, Felix could hear birds, startled into flight by the sudden noise. The sudden _loud_ noise. 

“Shit. Shit. _Shit._ ” Felix breathed. “Hey it’s ok uh…” _Fuck, what did the woman call him?_ “It’s ok… please stop. You need to cease this before our friends catch up to us and _murder_ us. You don’t want to be murdered do you?”

The kid did not stop crying. Maybe it couldn’t even understand him. Felix had no clue how big children were supposed to be when they started talking. Perhaps it was because he brought up murder… probably not the best word to use around a kid but the last time Felix had been around a child was…

…

…

Well Felix couldn’t even remember the last time he’d been around a child, let alone one that obviously need something Felix couldn’t provide. Maybe he could… render the boy unconscious again. He was positive that was better than being dead, and if this continued they’d both be dead for sure.

“Shut up shut up shut up.” Felix chanted, holding the kid back at arm's length. He briefly considered shaking him, but something that sounded suspiciously like Annette in the back of his head was telling him not to. He instead smashed the kids face into his coat. While muffled, it was still _horrendously_ loud. 

“ _Please._ ” He pleaded. Fuck, he’d never felt so helpless in his life. He _hated_ problems he couldn’t fix with his sword. He could feel the faintest trace of panic coiling in his stomach. Neither he, nor this kid would make it if he didn’t find a way out of here. He may have had time to scout the surrounding area if the kid had remained asleep… but like this, Felix just needed a direction.

He acted fast. Tristan’s crying briefly stopped, shocked into silence when Felix suddenly whipped off his own cape and bundled the kid up in it like a sack. He hastily tied an end to his saddle horn and looped the other around a saddlebag to form a makeshift… hammock thing. He stripped off his overcoat next and chucked it on top of the hammock before scrambling to the nearest tree with a branch low enough to the ground that he could swing up into it.

“Climbing a _fucking_ tree like a _fucking_ kid.” Felix grumbled to himself as he hoisted himself up, squeezing between branches. He could feel the cotton of his shirt snagging and he cringed. He wasn't vain, but he knew the shirts Humfery bought him weren't cheap. He climbed with the speed of desperation, arms burning with the effort, until he reached a point where he could shove his head above the treeline.

He almost smiled when he spotted the mountain range that divided Faerghus from the Alliance. It was a half a days ride at most. Which meant he could reach the little town he knew lay right at the mouth of the Daphnel pass before nightfall. He could dump the kid with the local guard and be on his way.

His journey down the tree was fast, and his relief at finding the mountains was just as brief. The minute his boots hit the ground, he heard it.

A high pitched whistling sound, growing louder until an arrow thunked into to the tree he had just been in, burying itself into the wood just shy of his head.

 _Fuck fuck fuck_.

He took a single step before another whistling sound cut through the forest. He watched in horror as it sunk _deep_ into his horse's flank. His mare screeched in pain and reared up. His tied cloak came loose and spilled the child onto the ground, the cloak fluttering down over him as the horse bolted.

Felix didn't spare the horse a second glance. He knew immediately that there was no way he would be able to catch it in this deep of snow. No, his attention was focused across the little clearing. When his horse had bolted, she had revealed a figure at the opposite end.

A man, pointing a bow straight at Felix. 

Felix shifted his gaze to where his cloak had fallen. He could see the shape of the kid moving beneath it, almost exactly midway between Felix and the man.

The man, obviously a Srengi bandit, followed Felix's gaze. His lip curled up into a wicked smile and Felix felt something twist in his gut when the man slowly lowered his bow to point not at Felix, but at the kid.

The man's sneering grin widened and he looked up at Felix, daring him to do something.

Felix gulped.

He could run. 

Solo, he had no doubt he'd be able to lose them for good. The trees were close enough that he could move through them, leaving no trace of his movements on the ground. It would take him longer on foot, but he'd be back on his way home, home to Sylvain.

But it was the thought of Sylvain that had Felix rooted to the spot.

The Sreng would kill the kid. Or leave him to freeze to death. And Sylvain… Sylvain would never let that happen. His paramour had far too big of a heart to abandon a defenseless child. What would he think of Felix if he left the kid at the mercy of bandits.

He could run, but Felix didn't think he could live with himself if he did.

He took a deep breath.

His hand twitched toward his sword.

He made eye contact with the bandit for a mere moment before launching himself forward. He drew his sword at the same moment he saw the man pull tight his bowstring in his periphery, still aimed at the boy. Felix jumped over the boy and turned around to scoop him up, meaning to dash away with him in a desperate attempt to escape.

He didn’t hear the arrow this time, but he sure as hell felt it. It’s bite flared into searing heat as he rose to his feet. He had no idea if he was holding the kid right side up or upside down, the cloak was still covering him, but some appendage was hitting or kicking Felix in the face as he struggled to his feet and attempted to run.

He made it ten feet before a second arrow grazed his leg, cutting all the way through his trousers to his calf.

He stumbled into the snow, turning when he heard footsteps behind him. He swung his sword. He felt his crest ignite and he made contact with something, but he never got the chance to find out what. The bursting, unfortunately familiar pain of black magic exploded into his head before everything abruptly went black.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I promise there will be a LOT of cute dad!felix fluff and even cuter papa!sylvain fluff upcoming
> 
> We just gotta get through the shit first.
> 
> If you want me to continue, please leave a comment. Let me know how Im doing.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sylvain arrives in Galatea.  
> Felix feels some feelings.

"Sylvain!!!" 

Despite the worry that had plagued him during his entire journey to the easternmost outpost of Galatea territory, Sylvain couldn't help but grin when he heard Ingrid's voice. He chucked his riding gloves back toward his horse and dashed to meet her, picking her up in his embrace.

He spun her around and squeezed her tightly before setting her back down, she smiled up at him.

"Hello." He said, returning her smile with one of his own.

"I had no idea you were coming!" She exclaimed. "We had no word!"

"Fear not." Sylvain chuckled. "I sent no word. Has Felix passed through here recently?"

"Felix?" Ingrid's face darkened immediately, her smile slipping away. "This isn't a social call is it?"

"Afraid not." Sylvain gulped. "You haven't heard from him?"

"No. Dimitri mentioned he was planning on sending him to Derdriu in his last letter but I thought he was going by sea?"

"He did go by sea. But he could not return the same way. He sent a bird saying he'd taken a horse and would be coming through Daphnel pass." Sylvain explained. "But the date on his letter….he should have made it here by now."

"Perhaps he already passed through. Is it possible you missed him on the road?" Ingrid asked.

"He said in his letter he would send word when he reached Galatea. He knows how I… well that is, how his poor servants worry. Humfery especially."

Ingrid smiled knowingly at him. "I'm sure Humfery is very worried. How long overdue do you think he is?"

"Three days at minimum."

"Hmmmm." Ingrid raised a hand to pinch her chin. "Come inside and stay the night. I have a handful squads of pegasus scouts patrolling our border and the pass. Ashe himself has been delivering new bows and ammunition along our guard stations. I will have them report in and tell them to keep an eye out for a grumpy Duke along the road."

"I appreciate it Ingrid. Though I am of the mind to go looking myself."

"Sylvain it is nearly nightfall and I see no saddlebags on your horse. It will be too dark for you find him and you need food." Ingrid reached out and squeezed his arm. "Take dinner with me and I will help you look for him myself come the morn."

"I-"

"I won't have arguments Sylvain."

"Fine." Sylvain huffed halfheartedly, "But you will contact your men?"

"Of course."

\-------------------------------------------------------------

Felix woke with a pounding in his head and the utmost surprise at having woken at all.

He was lying on something hard, and while supremely uncomfortable, he felt no pain other than his headache. He also heard nothing, no sounds of men nor sounds of nature. He chanced opening his eyes.

He was laying on a wooden floor, sprawled out on his side as if he had been thrown there and slept where he had landed. From his position, he could see that he was in a room with wood walls, a door, and a window, though the window was boarded shut, only a scant triangle of light coming through a gap in the boards.

He pushed himself into a sitting position, rubbing his temple with one hand as he continued to survey his surroundings. Immediately he saw the kid… Tristan his mother had called him, Felix remembered now. Tristan was sprawled out on Felix’s cape, asleep or unconscious. There was a tin bucket in the corner, but other than that the room was empty.

Felix himself had been stripped to nothing but his trousers and shirt. Even his boots had been taken, and the room wasn’t exactly warm. 

He fingered the cut on his trousers, pulling it open. There was a line of pink skin on his calf, but no open wound. Reaching up over his shoulder confirmed the same was true with his shoulder wound.

Someone had  _ healed _ him.

_ But why? _

Felix pulled himself to his feet and stepped first to the door, it was locked, then to the window, putting his eye up to the gap. He had to blink back momentary blindness from the sudden sunlight, but as his eyes adjusted all he could see was snow and more fucking trees.

He groaned and straightened, glancing over to Tristan.  _ Why would they take the kid too _ ? 

He moved over to him and sank to his knees. He pressed two fingers to his neck, once he found a pulse he moved his hand to Tristan’s forehead. 

Still hot, very hot.

“What the fuck is going on?” He breathed, sitting back on his heels. 

“He’s sick.” A voice intruded.

Felix jumped, dropping into a defensive stance. A sliding slot on the door he hadn’t noticed before was open, and a pair of blue, almost silver eyes stared at him.

“Who the fuck-”

“Yes yes, who the fuck am I.” The voice cut him off. “I am Tipo, and I would like to save your son if that’s alright with you.”

“My son.” Felix repeated, narrowing his eyes, gaze flickering over to Tristan. “What is going on? Why are you keeping us here?” 

“You should really be thanking me. The captain was going to kill you after we took your things. But then I saw the sigil on your sword. I know them. I’ve seen it before. We fought some knights once near the border. Knights from Fraldarius.” Tipo explained.

“So I’m from Fraldarius.” Felix said.

“You are not just from Fraldarius. You are Fraldaius. We saw your crest when you killed Jakor. You are the Duke.” 

The thing his sword hit… he’d killed one of them.

Good.

“I fail to see how this information affects why you’re keeping me here.” Felix grumbled. If anything, he thought the Sreng would have killed him faster knowing he was a Faerghus noble.

“Well that should be easy enough to figure out you would think. We were going to kill you, but now that we know who you are, we know there will be someone who will pay a lot to get you and your son back.” 

Felix was quiet, thinking. He understood now. The only reason they hadn’t killed the kid was because they thought he was Felix’s son… and they were going to ransom them. It was a shit plan, but he had to admit he liked it better than being dead. 

“And I highly doubt they will pay us for a dead kid.” Tipo continued. “So again, I would like to save him.”

Felix watched as a glass bottle appeared at the slot.

“What is it?”

“Some herbs I’ve mixed with some tea. They will help break his fever.”

“Why should I trust you?” Felix asked.

“Before the conclave collapsed I worked for a healer. Now? I really just want money.”

Felix stepped towards the door and reached out his hand. Tipo immediately withdrew.

“If you try anything, I will let him die.”

Felix wasn’t sure what the man thought he was capable of doing through a hole barely big enough to slip a bottle through, but he huffed his agreement anyway. He did however, reach to take the bottle in a way that would force Tipo to turn his palm up, noting with a smug note of satisfaction that the man’s hands were  _ smooth _ . Too smooth to have ever held a sword or bow long enough to possess any skill, and too unblemished to be a magic user.

_ Not a threat _ , Felix thought to himself.

“He needs to drink as much of it as possible.” The man said before abruptly slamming the slide shut. Felix stared after him for a moment before uncorking the bottle and giving it a sniff. He smelled the tea, and something almost like basil, but it could be poison for all he knew.

Still… the man’s logic had made sense. Nobody would pay a ransom for a dead kid. He went back over to Tristan. He’d had his fair share of forcing vulnerary’s down the throats of unconscious soldiers so he had no problem getting the contents down the kid’s throat.

“Not very educated bandits are they?” Felix whispered out loud, so quiet he could barely hear himself. “Congratulations. I guess you’re the Fraldarius heir now. It’s a shit job, you have terrible luck.”

Tristan remained quiet. Quiet and unconscious. Quiet and unconscious and maybe dying? 

“Don’t die.” Felix frowned. “Being kidnapped is bad enough  _ without _ being stuck in a room with a dead kid.”

He sighed and arranged the kid back down on his cloak before going back to the door. He spent a solid hour rubbing his fingertips raw trying to open the slot from the inside, then another couple hours listening through the frame. He didn’t learn much other than that someone played a particularly terrible concertina and that they were roasting some sort of meat, no further insights into their strength or numbers.

When the light began to fade, he gave up and went to sit against the farthest wall, the most defensible position in an…. Empty room. He hadn’t slept well in the woods, might as well grab some shut eye. He shut his eyes and let his mind drift back home, arms wrapping around his own torso to fight the dropping temperature as night approached. Sylvain would be checking in with the night watch right now. Or rather, Sylvain was SUPPOSED to be checking in with the night watch now, but Felix strongly suspected the man was doing no such thing. The thought made him smile. He wondered if he was laying in their bed, dozed off after reading one of Caspar or Linhardt's books the couple stored at Felix's estate while they were off on some new adventure. He wondered if Sylvain stared at the empty place beside him as often as Felix did when it was he that was gone instead. 

He was  _ maybe  _ starting to think along a dirtier train of thought at what Sylvain might be doing alone without him when a sound cut into his mind.

A fast, steady clicking.

Teeth. Chattering teeth.

He opened his eyes and could instantly see the kid was shaking.

"How are you cold? You have the  _ cloak _ ."

To his utmost surprise, Tristan  _ responded. _ Granted, Felix couldn't tell if it was actual words or just muffled whining. Either way, the kid rolled over and held out a hand.

A tiny hand.

Felix has no idea why it  _ affected  _ him. But it did. Something small and entirely unfamiliar twinged in his chest, right behind his sternum. Before Felix even realized what he was doing, he was crawling across the floor to the kid, taking the little hand in his own.

"Are you alright?" Felix asked, his other hand reaching to feel his forehead. It was sweaty beyond belief, but no longer warm.  _ Herbs worked _ . Tristan looked up at him with green eyes that  _ pleaded  _ for something. It was then that Felix noticed the kid’s other hand...and where it was clutching.

_ Oh. _

_ Duh _ . Felix had shoveled liquid down his throat. It was going to need to come  _ out. _ Thank GOD this kid appeared to be toilet trained.

"Uh… yeah. Um...there's a chamber pot over there." Felix pointed to the tin bucket. Tristan squinted at it, then looked back at him and whined.

"Surely you can do…  _ that _ on your own." Felix scoffed, not intending to so condescending to a toddler. Tristan whined.

"I thought you didn't like me."

Tristan whined again.

"Fine." Felix growled, standing up. He yanked the kid up by their still joined hands. He hadn't meant to pull so hard, but he hadn't realized how  _ little _ the kid weighed without the addition of the cloak wrapped around him. “Uh...sorry…”

He steered Tristan over to the bucket and let go of his hand. Tristan just stared at him. 

“Go.” Felix demanded. “In that.”

Blank stare.

“GO. You know…” Felix waved his hand around his own...area… “Piss dammit.”

Tristan raised his arms suddenly, reaching up for him.

“Just fucking pee kid!” Felix barked, stepping back.

Tristan’s little face remained blank for only a sparse moment before it scrunched up suddenly. It wasn’t loud, not like it was in the woods. But Felix still winced as Tristan began to tremble with quiet, sniffly sobs.

“FINE.” Felix barked. He awkwardly tugged the kids little trousers off and then held him even more awkwardly over the chamber pot, staring at the ceiling the entire time. When he didn’t hear...anything, he started shaking the boy.

“Go. go. Go. go.” He chanted, eyes firmly locked on the dark ceiling, feeling a flush creep up his neck. This was fucking  _ ridiculous _ . He didn’t even have to help Sylvain pee when he was wasted and Sylvain was the biggest child he knew. Oh he bet Sylvain would just be laughing his ass off if he could see Felix right now.

_ Playing nursemaid darling? _

Felix could practically hear his voice. 

“I done.” a different voice said.

“Oh. Uh. Good. Good um… good boy.” Felix set him back down on his feet. He helped him back into his pants and then frowned, awkwardness momentarily forgotten when something caught his eye. He lifted Tristan’s little, ripped, filthy tunic up and his frown settled even deeper. No wonder he was so light… 

Felix reached out and touched the boys side, where he could see every single rib. This kid was just skin stretched over bones, not a trace of fat on him. He let the shirt fall back and he gave the kid his first real good look.

He was thin all over, but his face was…  _ innocent _ Felix supposed was a good word (In the back of his mind he heard Annette again,  _ Cute Felix! He’s cute!) _ . His cheeks were still rosy with the slightest flush leftover from his fever. But he could see underneath the blush that they were covered in a smattering of freckles, dense and dark like the ones that dotted Sylvain’s shoulders. Even though it was dark, Felix could tell his hair was caught somewhere between blonde and brown, almost a chestnut color. And it was curly, the swoops plastered to his forehead with sweat.

“Hi.” Tristan said, shyly glancing up at Felix through long lashes.

Felix felt the twinge again and he swallowed hard.

“Hi.” He said quietly.

“Who you?”

“My name is Felix...”

“Where Mama?”

“Uh. Dead.” Felix said. “I’m sorry.”

“Cold.” Tristan said, not missing a beat.

“What? Oh. Yeah. Cold. It is cold.” Felix frowned. “And kids don’t like that. Right. Let’s get you wrapped back up.”

Felix shuffled the kid away from the bucket and back to the cloak. He wrapped it tightly around him and laid him back down, insisting that he go back to sleep. After, he resumed his position at the wall, letting his eyes flutter back shut.

After a moment he heard shuffling and opened his eyes AGAIN and jumped to find the kid right in front of his face.

“Fuck you’re quiet.” He hissed. “What? I told you to sleep.”

Tristan didn’t say anything, just crawled up Felix’s outstretched legs, collapsing against his chest, tucking his head up under Felix’s chin.

“Tris with Frix.” the boy said sleepily.

“F-Frix?” 

“Frix.” Tristan repeated himself, patting Felix’s chest.

Oh…  _ I’m Frix _ . The twinge exploded inside him.

_ Fuck _ . 

_ Fuck, _ this was not what he needed.  _ Fuck fuck fuck. _

Felix wrapped his arms around the kid and held him close. Not in any  _ sentimental  _ way, he just… well it WAS cold.

“Yeah kid. You’re with me now.” he mumbled into curly hair.

Totally not sentimental.

Not at all.

\------------------------------------------------

Felix was rudely awoken the next morning by a sharp  _ yank _ to the back of his head.

His eyes flew open and a fist shot out instinctively.

“Stop or the little one starts losing body parts.” A rough voice commanded.

Felix froze and blinked until the world was more clear. A man with a thick blonde beard gripped him by his ponytail. Felix snarled and raised his fist to strike again, but froze when he saw the man next to his assaulter. Another man, whom Felix recognized as the archer who had shot him. He held Tristan in the air, wiggling with a hand covering his mouth and a dagger up against his neck.

“What the  _ fuck _ do you want.” Felix’s voice dripped with venom.

“Proof.” The man barked.

Felix felt the slightest resistance before a blade sliced close to his scalp, shearing his ponytail clean off. He was shoved to the ground roughly, turning to see the man now clutching Felix’s hair, still tied in his favorite white and silver tie.

He  _ growled  _ and moved to stand.

“Stay on the ground or I’ll have my man collect proof from your son as well.” The man said before turning to walk out of the room. Felix watched as the other man backed away as well. He chucked Tristan onto the ground and then dashed out. Felix scrambled up, leaping over toward the door after him, but not fast enough.

“I’ll have your fucking HEADS.” Felix screeched, pounding on the door. He sank to his knees and reached up to touch his head, wincing at the choppy ends he could now feel at his nape.

“ _ Fuck.”  _ Felix said hoarsely. He LIKED his hair. Sylvain LIKED his hair. He thumped a weak fist on the door again before turning his head.

“Oh fuck.” He breathed, scrambling back over to the kid. Again, Tristan was not loud, but he was cherry red from holding his breath, shaking while silent tears poured down his cheeks.

“Fuck don’t  _ cry  _ like that you crazy child.” Felix scooped him up, shaking him again. “Breathe ok?”

Tristan fisted his hands in Felix’s shirt, the tiniest squeak of a sob making it’s way past his lips.

“It’s going to be ok.” Felix said quietly, cupping the back of Tristan’s head. “You don’t know him, but Sylvain will come.”

“He’ll come.” Felix repeated, though he wasn’t sure if he was trying to reassure the kid… or himself.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yooooooo. Hope you like my trash.
> 
> If you like my trash and want me to continue... comments would be super cool.
> 
> Because Im a thirsty hoe.
> 
> Friendly reminder this isn't beta read at ALL as I write most of it on my phone on my graveyard shift.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Being kidnapped is... boring.

Being kidnapped was… boring. 

Felix was positive that wasn’t the intended effect, but nonetheless, he was bored.

He spent most of his time sitting by the door, listening for anything that might help him escape. He hoped that eventually he would hear a commotion, some shouting before the door would fling open and reveal a familiar shock of red hair.

_ Miss me darling? _

But Sylvain didn’t come. Not yet. But Felix knew he would. He simply had to bide his time.

In lieu of his sword routine, Felix did what he could to keep his mind busy and his training schedule sort of maintained. He ran himself through pushups, sit ups, stretches he hadn’t bothered with in years. All the while Tristan sat quietly. 

Felix found himself watching the kid pretty damn frequently over the next few days. He was a quiet little shit. Tipo had given them another blanket and Felix had built Tristan a little...nest thing with it. For the most part, Tristan seemed content to sit there, dozing in and out of naps and playing with the wooden cup they were occasionally given water in. But occasionally when Felix stopped to take a break, he would toddle over and sit in his lap.

“Can I help you?” 

“Where Mama?”

“Dead.” Felix answered, as he did every single time the kid asked. And just as he had done every time before, Tristan accepted and fell silent, snuggling up against Felix.

Felix had protested this the first few times it happened. But then Tristan had started the weird holding-his-breath crying thing and Felix begrudgingly let the kid leech off of him rather than make himself pass out.

At night Felix had given up completely on sleeping alone. Tristan slept on his chest, fingers clutched so tightly in Felix’s shirt that he had discovered tiny little rips in the fabric. No matter how much he felt like he  _ should _ be, Felix couldn’t bring himself to be annoyed.

After almost two entire weeks of captivity he found himself growing…  _ tolerant _ of the kid.

( _ It’s ok to say you like him Felix.  _ Said his inner Annette voice)

They fell into a routine together. They would wake up, someone would come to empty their chamber pot and bring them a measly amount of food. Felix didn’t dare try to escape or fight during those visits, despite every fiber of his being telling him to. He would have risked it if it had only been his life in jeopardy, but everytime someone came in the room they were accompanied by the archer who kept an arrow trained on not Felix, but Tristan. 

They THOUGHT they were threatening his son, and even though they were not… it was still an effective threat to keep him in line. 

Still, Felix had been… tempted. He’d toed the line a few times, mouthing off when he should have kept his mouth shut. They had shown him that that wasn’t acceptable either. After a particularly… snide comment about the presumed size of the man’s genitals, the man with the blonde beard had retaliated by slapping Tristan so hard the kid fell backward and had a bright red welt in the shape of a hand across his face.

“Fuck. Fuck, I’m sorry.” Felix scrambled over to the kid after the men left, falling to his knees in front of him, hands hovering, unsure what to do. Tristan sat up and stared at him in shock, completely silent for all of five seconds before he let out a sound that Felix would probably have nightmares about for  _ years.  _ His freckled face turned just as red to match the welt and a little hand flew up to touch where he had been hit, the sound increasing in volume.

“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said… fuck kid, I’m so sorry.” Felix’s hands still hung awkwardly in the air, but not for long. Tristan launched himself at Felix, screaming into his neck. Felix brought his hands up and carefully cupped the back of his head, rocking them back and forth, some sort of…  _ instinct _ taking over.

“I’ll kill him Tris. I’ll kill him.” He mumbled into chestnut hair. “It’s ok. You’re ok.”

\----------------------------------------

“Where are you from?” Felix asked a few days after the slapping incident. He was laying in his and Tristan’s “nest” against the wall, Tristan sitting in his lap playing some game with the buttons on Felix’s shirt that he didn’t quite understand.

“What?”

“Where are you from? Where did you live?” Felix repeated.

“Uh...” Tristan looked up at him, confused.

“Well what’s your family name?”

“Tristan!”

“I know that’s your name dumb dumb, what’s your  _ family  _ name?”

“Uh…”

Felix rolled his eyes. “Like, my name is Felix but my family name is Fraldarius.”

“Fralarmyness.”

“Close enough.” Felix chuckled, smiling up at him. It was...weird how much he  _ didn’t _ mind being touched and smothered by the kid. Felix  _ hated _ being touched by exactly everyone but Sylvain. He didn’t even like Annette's hugs and Annette was his… best friend or whatever. But Tristan… It wasn't uncomfortable. But maybe being stuck in the same room with a person for weeks did that to you. It sure did something to Felix.

“So what’s your family name?” Felix asked again.

“Fralarmyness.” Tristan sat back and grinned.

“That’s mine you little shit.” Felix smiled wider. “What’s YOURS?”

“Um. I no know. Can Tris have yours?” Tristan cocked his head to the side. “Pwease?”

Felix felt that pull in his chest again. A feeling he was starting to associate with Tristan in general.

“Yeah well… that’s the cover story isn’t it?” Felix reached up and ruffled his hair. “You keep mine for now. Till I find out what yours is.”

“Fank you Frix.” Tristan smiled a smile that crinkled up his green eyes up into little half moons.

“You’re welcome.” Felix sighed and let his head flop back, running a hand through his hair. It was disgusting having not been washed in so long. The first thing he was going to do when he got out of this hell hole was take a bath. Whenever his imbecile of a lover decided to come rescue him.

“Where are you Sylvain?” He groaned.

\--------------------------------------------

“He’s about 175 centimeters… sort of like a...blueish hair color. VERY grumpy and off putting demeanor?” 

“I’m sorry. This time of year we only really get hunters. I would have remembered him.” The innkeep smiled apologetically. “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be. I appreciate your help.” Sylvain forced a smile of his own. A smile that disappeared the minute he made it back to his horse. Felix had ‘officially’ been missing for over three weeks now and Sylvain’s hope was starting to waver. 

Three days ago he and Ingrid had stumbled across the half-eaten remains of a horse, pincushioned with arrows and ravished by beasts or wolves. Sylvain had lost the meager contents of his stomach and spent another ten dry heaving at the base of a tree. Not because of the gore, he’d seen plenty worse during the war. But because it bore the brand of house Riegan on it’s shredded flank. That and the remaining saddlebag contents that hadn’t been dragged off left no question, it was the horse Felix had borrowed from Claude.

Dead. In the middle of the woods.

Ingrid assured him,  _ promised _ him that there wasn’t a single trace of… human remains on the horse, near the horse, or anywhere within a mile radius of the horse. But Sylvain couldn’t help but be  _ terrified _ by what it could mean if the horse was dead and Felix was still nowhere to be found. Sylvain had never been a particularly religious man, but he spent every night on his knees in the tent Ingrid’s scouts had set up for him, praying until he fell asleep.

Until one morning he was rudely awoken by shouting.

“SYLVAIN! SYLVAIN!” 

Sylvain stumbled out into the camp, just as an old friend came sprinting toward him.

“Ashe?”

“Scouts, they intercepted a bandit on his way through the pass.” Ashe said breathlessly. “He has information about a ransom.”

“Ransom…” Sylvain’s eyes went wide. “Where is he?”

“Ingrid has him near the horses.” Ashe waved his hand, pointing.

Sylvain shoved past him, heading straight to the horses, mildly grateful he had fallen asleep before he could have taken his boots off, his heart suddenly going a mile a minute. 

Ingrid stood with a pair of her pegasus scouts. She was already in full armor despite the early hour. Her brow furrowed just about as deeply as it could be, arms folded across her chest as she stared at the bloodied bandit her two scouts held between them. She looked up as Sylvain approached.

“He’s alive.” She said immediately, “They have him.”

“Who is they? Where is he? Is he ok?” Sylvain sputtered.

“They’re from  _ Sreng _ .” Ingrid said, noting Sylvain’s surprise. “I know, I already have people looking into it, and the alliance guys sent someone back to Claude. They say they have Felix. They want to make a trade.”

“Trade for what?” Sylvain glanced at the bandit. He didn’t look good. Sylvain made a mental note to shake the hand of whomever had captured him.

“Bandit usual. Gold and weapons.”

“Ok. We can do that.”

“Sylvain. There’s something else.”

Sylvain turned to stare at her, heart sinking. By the look on her face, whatever she was about to say wasn’t going to be good news.

“He,” Ingrid gestured to the bandit. “Says they have the duke and the duke’s  _ son. _ ”

“His… what?”

“Felix has a kid with him. A little kid. His son apparently.” Ingrid explained.

“So… So maybe it’s not Felix. Fe hates kids.”

“Sylvain…” Ingrid said, voice sad. “It’s him.”

She unfolded her arms and handed him a square of suspiciously familiar teal-blue cloth he hadn’t noticed she had been holding. Sylvain unfolded it with steady fingers and abruptly like vomiting again. He would have recognized a single strand of Felix’s hair, and this was… a lot more than a single strand. And if the hair itself wasn’t proof enough, Felix’s hair ties were one of a kind. Sylvain would know, he was the one who had them made for his last birthday.

“Ing.” He croaked, the cloth beginning to shake in his hands. Ingrid reached out and clasped them in hers, her grip steadying him. He managed to force his gaze up to meet hers, her green eyes crinkling with a reassuring smile.

“We will get him back Sylvain.”

\-------------------------------------------------

Felix hurt  _ everywhere. _

The man with the blonde beard who Felix learned was the man Tipo called ‘The captain’ had barged into their little room with three other men that morning and gave Felix the news he had been waiting for. That they were going to drag them out and  _ hopefully _ FINALLY exchange Felix for whatever sum they had demanded. 

Relief flooded his system, but it wasn’t long before it was replaced with pain.

Despite his involuntary haircut, Felix was relatively unscathed and the captain thought that perhaps his ransom would not be taken seriously if they showed up and Felix ‘looked as pretty’ as he did. His solution was having his men tackle Felix to the ground, rip Tristan away from his protective embrace, and then to beat the  _ shit _ out of him.

Felix had tried to fight back this time, even managed to bloody one of the men’s noses. But after a few minutes of resisting and struggling, he realized with horror that he had suffered more from the lack of proper food and water than he thought he had. His vision blurred before going black, and he faded from consciousness to the sound of fists pounding into his own flesh and Tristan screaming in the background.

When he woke, he found himself unable to see, something tied across his eyes. From the movement, he could tell he was in a saddle, body thrumming with a roaring ache. His hands were bound together, tied to the saddle horn, and he was  _ freezing.  _ They hadn’t bothered giving him back any of his clothes, leaving him with just his linen shirt and trousers to fight against the cold bite of the winter wind that cut into him as they rode.

From muffled whimpers, He knew Tristan was being held by one of the men on a horse to his left, keeping them separated so that Felix would not be able to run without leaving the kid behind. Something they assumed he would not do. Not that Felix could run even if he wanted to, his legs grew number with every hour that passed and they hung like dead weights to each side of his mount.

They rode throughout the afternoon and into the early evening until they abruptly stopped.

“Ah. They’re already here. Punctual these men of Faerghus are, aren’t they?” Felix heard the captain say. He heard the men around him begin to dismount, weapons being unsheathed, before someone was at his side.

“Run and my archers fill you and your fucking kid with more holes than a sieve.” The captain hissed in his ear. His wrist bindings were cut a second before he was shoved off the saddle, tumbling down into the snow. Pain lanced through every nerve in his body, both from the fall and the shock of something even colder than the wind. He was struggling with numb fingers to tug his blindfold off as a weight collided with him, little arms flying around his neck.

“Tris?” He said horsley. “Are you ok? Did they hurt you?” 

He had to blink as sunlight finally filled his vision, biting back a pained sound of his own as he maneuvered to his knees, pullingTristan back to inspect him. 

_ Fucking hells they hadn’t wrapped him in anything either,  _ Felix thought to himself, rage bubbling within him as he tugged the half frozen boy against his chest. He snapped his gaze up, having every intention of giving his captors a  _ nasty _ piece of his mind when he caught sight of the people across the clearing from his captors. The ‘men of Faerghus’ the captain had mentioned. Three of them stood next to horses, but Felix couldn’t tell you who the other two were, his attention rested solely on the figure in the middle. A familiar shock of red hair, caramel eyes that were already locked on him.

_ Sylvain _ .

Felix let out an involuntary choked sound and he started to push himself up to stand when an ice cold edge pressed into the back of his neck.

“Who are you?” The captain called out across the clearing.

“A friend of the Duke.” Sylvain answered. Though he doubted anyone else would notice, Felix could tell the calm with which Sylvain spoke was forced.

“And do you have my money, friend of the Duke?”

“The Duke is unharmed?” Sylvain asked.

“Unharmed? No.” The captain laughed. “But alive.”

Felix watched as Sylvain gestured to one of the men beside him, a Galatea scout if Felix remembered the uniform correctly. The scout stepped forward and lifted a huge satchel.

“And my weapons?”

“I was not allowed to provide you with weapons.” Sylvain said. Felix winced as the captain’s blade dug into the back of his neck, just enough to draw blood. 

“However,” Sylvain continued. “I have doubled the gold you asked for.”

The pressure on the back of Felix’s neck eased up at that.

“Doubled eh?” The captain pondered this for a moment. “Let me...discuss this with my friends.”

“Of course.” Sylvain said, eyes never leaving Felix. Felix narrowed his own eyes, watching as Sylvain raised a hand, tapping a closed fist against his chest slowly before unfurling it, five fingers spread out over the fabric of the jacket he wore. While the captain conversed behind him, Felix watched as Sylvain tapped his chest again, this time the fist turned into three fingers that Sylvain dragged from the middle of his chest, all the way down to his belt.

Felix’s eyes went wide and he glanced up immediately at the sky. It had been  _ years _ since he had ever had to use the hand signals painstakingly taught to them at the monastery, but some knowledge never leaves you. 

He looked back at Sylvain and nodded his understanding. 

“Tristan?” He whispered to the boy in his arms. “I need you to hold on to me tight.”

“Why?” Tristan whined, muffled against Felix’s neck.

“Just do it.”

Felix tightened his own grip around the kid and took a deep breath, waiting. 

Waiting.

… 

…

He heard the arrow before he even saw it. A brief whistle before it struck the captain above him, sinking  _ directly _ into the man’s eye with a squelch. 

The minute it hit, Felix sprung up.

The sound of wings above him confirmed that he had interpreted the hand signals correctly. If he had looked behind him, he would have seen Ingrid and two other pegasus knights swoop down from the heavens, drawing the attention of all the bandits, giving Felix his chance to run forward.

Although ‘running’ was a very loose word for what he could manage to do on his numb legs. Still, he forced his body to move, stumbling through the snow like a newborn foal walking for the first time. The snow stung his bare feet and sent fresh lances of pain up his calves and he knew he wouldn’t make it far.

Luckily, Sylvain had sprung to action the minute he had, and was already halfway across the clearing, sprinting fast. 

They practically collided with one another, Sylvain’s arms moving to loop under Felix’s legs, lifting him and Tristan both as easy as if they were merely a sack of flour. 

“Miss me darling?” Sylvain asked, breathless as he spun around and began running back toward the far treeline where even more of Ingrid’s Galatea scouts had appeared, all now running toward the bandits with weapons drawn.

“Took you long enough.” Felix half said, half  _ sobbed _ in relief.

Sylvain merely let out his own sigh of relief, too focused on getting them the hell out of there. He sprinted up to one of the horses and pushed Felix up onto it, swinging up behind him. Sylvain wrapped one arm around Felix and Tristan both, the other hand snapping his reigns, pushing his horse into a run. Swiftly putting distance between them and the fight.

After ten minutes of hard riding, they broke through the trees and onto the main road. A few more Galatea men along with a handful of Alliance soldiers loitered around a single supply cart, all looking up, hands twitching toward weapons as Sylvain burst into view. Once they recognized him, they parted and let him all the way up to the cart.

“Get me a vulnerary!” Sylvain shouted, reining his horse to a halt, swinging off onto the ground. Without his support, Felix lilted to the side and all but fell into Sylvain’s arms, using all of his strength to keep Tristan firmly against his chest.

Sylvian carried them both over to the cart and clambered up in. He propped Felix up against a crate and ripped off his own cloak to wrap around them, trying to arrange it so the kid could still breath. As Sylvain was fussing, Felix reached out and cupped his cheek, making him freeze.

“You’re late.” Felix said quietly, a tired smile playing across his lips. 

Sylvain smiled back, tears springing to his caramel eyes. He reached up and covered Felix’s hand with his own before leaning forward to rest their foreheads together.

“Fashionably so.” the redhead forced a chuckle, then sighed. “God Feef, I’m so sorry-”

“Don’t.” Felix breathed. “Please just… just hold me.”

Sylvain chuckled again and shuffled around to sit, pulling Felix into his arms. Felix let out a shaky breath and buried his face into Sylvain’s neck, feeling around with his free hand until he found Sylvain’s again, lacing their fingers together. Sylvain was warm and smelled like  _ home _ . Felix could have absolutely fallen asleep right then if-

“Frix?” A little voice intruded into his drowsiness.

“It’s naptime Tris. We’re safe now.” Felix mumbled, pulling Tristan close. 

“Ok.” Tristan said, nuzzling back into Felix’s shirt.

“Um. Feef?” Sylvain asked.

“What.”

“You have a kid.” 

“It’s a long story.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> They're back together! What do you guys think will happen?
> 
> Let me know if you liked it in the comments!


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tristan does not like Sylvain.  
> Sylvain wants to know what's going on.  
> And Felix REALLY needs a bath.

Felix fell asleep in the wagon and, perhaps aided by the two vulneraries Sylvain forced him to drink, was so far into his slumber that he was borderline unconscious. He didn't wake during the hour or so journey back to the scout camp they had established as base camp. He didn't wake up when Sylvain carried him to his tent and tucked him into a bedroll. He didn't even wake up when Ingrid and Ashe returned with the small calvary of alliance soldiers and pegasus scouts they had gathered, filling the camp with all sorts of noise.

His little friend, however, was  _ wide  _ awake. Wide awake and scared absolutely shitless.

Sylvain had  _ tried _ to be gentle when detangling the kid off of Felix so he could put him to bed. But he had woken up the moment Sylvain wrapped him up in a blanket of his own. He stared at Sylvain for a long ten or so seconds before his breath started coming in short little gasps.

“Um. Hello.” Sylvain said.

The kids started shaking with even louder gasps and he scooted backward, desperate to put distance between himself and this strange new man.

“Woah. Hey there, it’s ok.” Sylvain held up his hands. “I’m a good guy. My name is Sylvain.”

The kid just stared at him with wide eyes and Sylvain watched with a bit of panic himself as tears started sliding down the child’s freckled cheeks. 

“Oh please don’t cry. I promise I’m friendly, see?” Sylvain flashed the kid his most dashing smile, proven to win over men and women alike… but apparently not kids. The boy just jerked his head around, looking at the tent around them until he spotted Felix. His reaction was immediate. He let out a squeak of a sob and dove toward him, darting around Sylvain to burrow straight into Felix’s sleeping bag.

“Woah woah, kid  _ please  _ don’t wake him  _ up. _ ” Sylvain whisper hissed. “Ah...shit.”

He sighed as he watched the lump move all the way down to Felix’s side, shaking the whole blanket with the force of his trembles. Felix did nothing but mutter a little in his sleep. 

Sylvain moved to sit closer to Felix’s head. He tugged off his leather gloves and reached out to gently push some unevenly cut hair away from Felix’s face. He ignored the tears that threatened suddenly at the corner of his eyes, all the relief at finding Felix  _ alive _ hitting him all at once. He was worse for the wear, even if the Vulneraries had already faded some cuts and bruises. He was  _ thin _ . The thinnest Sylvain had ever seen him, skin stretched too tightly over bones. And yet, as always, he was the most beautiful thing Sylvain had ever seen.

“I missed you Fe.” He whispered, leaning down to kiss the man’s forehead before, as stealthily as he could, reaching to fish out Felix's hand, interlacing their finger with a gentle squeeze.

\---------------------------------------------------------

Felix awoke to the most  _ heavenly  _ smell.

He cracked his eyes open and blinked in the sunlight, early morning or late evening judging by the reddish orange glow about. He sat up, a woolen blanket falling to pool at his waist as he blearily looked around the tent he was in until he spotted Sylvain sitting cross legged in the corner. Munching on the contents of a plate in his lap, the source of the smell.

"Good morning!" Sylvain grinned with a mouthful of food when he noticed Felix was up. "Or I should say good evening."

"Give me that." Felix croaked through a dry throat, hand raised in a grabby motion. Sylvain cocked an eyebrow but handed over his plate nonetheless.

Felix could  _ feel _ himself drooling. It wasn't anything fancy, some sort of herb biscuit and ham, but he couldn't hold back an actual  _ moan _ as he took a bite.

"I would tease you, but you look like you haven't eaten in weeks." Sylvain said softly. 

"I feel like I haven't eaten in  _ years _ ." Felix shook his head. "Sylvain I would literally kill someone for more of this."

"I'm sure there's plenty." Sylvain chuckled. "I'll fetch you another plate."

Felix watched him stand, strongly considering licking the wooden plate once he left, when he remembered something important.

"Wait. Has Tristan eaten?"

"Tristan…" Sylvain furrowed his brow. "Oh. Is that the kid? I could have sworn you called him Chris in the wagon. No wonder he doesn't like me." He chuckles. "No he hasn't eaten. He won't let any of us near him."

"Where…" Felix started to ask when he suddenly became aware of movement in his sleeping bag, too distracted by food to have noticed it before. He lifted up the blanket and peered inside. "Hey are you alive? Are you hurt?"

Tristan looked at him with big green eyes, bottom lip poking out.

"A scary." He whispered.

"Scary?" Felix frowned then sighed. "Come on, come out here."

"No."

"I promise it's safe Tris. I'll keep you safe." Felix held out his hand under the covers. Tristan pouted a second more before taking it, slowly climbing up to sit in Felix's lap, burying his face against the man's shirt.

"It's ok. See that?" Felix pointed across the tent. "That's Sylvain. He's my... friend."

Tristan peeked out with one eye and then shut it quickly, fingers digging into Felix's arm.

"A scary!" He whined.

"He's not scary. He's uh… very nice." Felix brought his hand up to gently rub the boys back. "He's going to get us some food, are you hungry?"

Tristan nodded against his chest.

"Food and  _ water _ ." Felix said looking up again at his partner. 

Sylvain nodded and stepped out of the tent. Felix did a quick once over on the kid to make sure he wasn't hurt, then moved on to quickly assess his own injuries.

"Where we?" Tristan asked, peering around now that the tent was "safe" from the scary stranger.

"A safe place." Felix said gently. "These are all my friends."

"They no hit Tris and Frix?"

"No. They won't hit us." Felix said.

"Frix? Shit, that's adorable." 

Felix glared at Sylvain as the man sauntered back into the tent. Tristan flinched and stiffened in Felix's lap, but even he perked up when Sylvain set two plates down in front of them. He waited and watched Felix begin to eat before he turned and scooted to the other plate.

"This me?" He asked in a whisper, eyeing Sylvain with suspicion.

"Yes. That's for you." Felix nodded.

Tristan smiled and picked up a piece of the biscuit, popping it into his mouth.

"Oh! This good!" Tristan exclaimed cheerfully, reaching immediately for another piece.

"It is good." Felix looked up at Sylvain.

"Ashe." Sylvain explained with a smirk. He glanced at the kid, now fully entranced with his food. He hoped the kid was too distracted to care and quickly shuffled over to shit next to Felix, pressing their shoulders together.

Felix ever so slightly leaned against him.

“How long have I been asleep?” Felix asked.

“Just the afternoon.” Sylvain propped his chin on Felix’s shoulder.

“I trust you slaughtered them all?”

“I doubt Ingrid would enjoy the use of that particular word. But yes. They took a bunch of them prisoner the rest… died.” Sylvain sighed. “They tracked them back to the old lodge we figured they’d been keeping you in. You’ll be pleased to know Ing found your swords on one of them.”

“Mmmm.” Felix hummed his approval. He had been fond of the blade pair, but had assumed the bandits would sell them the first chance they got. It was an unexpected surprise. 

“So. Literally  _ everyone _ is dying to know who the heck this kid is.” Sylvain said. “Even the bandits we took captive had no idea when we told them he wasn’t really your son. I mean… assuming he isn’t somehow actually your son?”

“Idiot!” Felix jerked an elbow back into Sylvain’s side. “How could he be mine!?”

“Well I thought I’d make sure you didn’t have some scandalous love affair with a fair Alliance maiden.” Sylvain chuckled.

“Idiot.” Felix repeated.

“So who is he? You seem...close.”

“Being stuck in the same room for a month with each other will do that.” Felix sighed. “He’s… well… I was on my way back.”

Felix took about ten minutes to relay the story of everything that had happened to him. Finding the overturned wagon, the woman inside. Getting Tristan, giving his mother a knife. Everything about his capture and the time he spent with the bandits. When he was done, Sylvain let out a slow whistle.

“So you just… took him?”

“No Sylvain. I left a defenseless toddler half submerged in a fucking river so that he could watch his mother kill herself and then freeze to death.” Felix scoffed. “I’m a jerk, not a fucking monster.”

“Still… you hate kids.”

“I do not hate kids.” Felix protested.

“You told Lord Maline’s son to fuck off.”

“He was annoying.”

“He was  _ seven _ .” Sylvain laughed.

“Seven and  _ annoying _ and in dire need of fucking off.” Felix huffed. “Tristan is… different.”

“What are you going to do with him?” Sylvain asked.

“I… don’t know.” Felix admitted. “I was… getting worried we wouldn’t make it out of that room in the first place.”

“Idiot.” Sylvain breathed, echoing Felix’s earlier insult. He brought an arm around Felix’s back and squeezed him. “I’m sorry I was late but Feef, I never would have stopped looking until I found you. Never.”

Sylvain felt a little shudder go through Felix before his raven-haired love slumped fully against him, head flopping to rest on Sylvain’s shoulder. 

“Syl?” Felix rasped, voice heavy with emotion. Sylvain reached out and grabbed one of his hands, loopings their fingers together with a tight squeeze.

“Yea?” Sylvain asked.

“I want to take a bath.” Felix whispered.

Sylvain couldn’t help but laugh, Felix’s elbow appearing in his ribs once again.

“What?” Felix hissed.

“I thought you were going to tell me you loved me.”

“You know that already idiot.” 

“Well I definitely already knew you need a bath too.” Sylvain laughed.

“Ass.” 

\----------------------------------------------------------------

Felix sighed and sank lower into the tin bathtub, his chin barely peeking above the near-scalding water. The steam clung to his skin, mixing with sweat as it rolled down his face and back into the bathwater. It was weird bathing without hair. Nothing floated around him, nothing plastered itself to his skin. He could feel every individual drop of moisture moving through his freshly cut locks.

He hated it.

It was stupid. It was vain. But he missed his long hair. However, even he had to admit the way the bandit sliced off his ponytail had left his hair looking like some sort of nightmare mullet. So when they arrived at a Leicester Alliance guard outpost, one of the first things he did was beg Ingrid to make him look decent. 

He sighed and reached up, running his fingers through it, scratching at his scalp. 

“Touching it isn’t going to make it grow back faster.” A voice intruded into his thoughts.

He looked up and watched as Sylvain tossed his coat onto a wooden chair and then walked over to him, sitting next to the tub. The redhead pushed the sleeves of his shirt up and propped his elbows up on the edge of the bath. Felix scowled at him

“I knew you’d hate it.” 

“Did I say that?” Sylvain smirked at him. His fingers dipped into the water, trailing over Felix’s upper arm. “It’s attached to you Feef. And that means I love it. Short, long, shaved, whatever.”

“I look like Caspar.”

“It’s not  _ that _ short.”

“Damn close.” Felix grumbled, jerking his arm away from Sylvain’s wandering fingers. “Were you successful?” He asked, changing the subject.

Sylvain sighed and looked down, nodding.

“Yeah. The wagon was right where you said it would be. It um… had been pretty picked over by god knows what or who. But we made sure they were properly buried.” Sylvain explained, then reached to pull something out of his pants pocket. “Your dagger was nowhere to be found. But the.. Body inside had this.”

Sylvain held out a leather cord, dangling from it was a little brass pendant stamped with the symbol of one of the saints.

“Cethleann.” Felix said, turning it over in his wet fingers. “Not much of a clue.”

“No. But it’s something at least.”

Felix pursed his lips and looked up over Sylvain’s shoulder to the small bed in the room they had been given. Tristan was fast asleep, freshly bathed himself and dressed in the smallest spare tunic the outpost had. His hair was even curlier now that it was free of grease and grime. It hung in soft curls over his soft face, hands folded up under his chin, safe and well fed for maybe the first time in his entire life.

“We’ll make sure the orphanage tells him where it came from.” Sylvain continued. 

Felix suddenly felt the pang in his chest from before return, except this time it  _ hurt _ instead of making him feel fond.

“No.” He said suddenly.

“No…” Sylvain parroted. “No we wont have them tell him?”

“No he’s not going to an orphanage.” Felix said.

“He’s… not?” Sylvain’s eyebrows shot up.

“I mean… eventually maybe. But not until I’m damn sure there’s no other family out there that can take him first.” Felix said, fully aware a blush he was creeping up his neck.

“Oh. Ok.” Sylvain smirked. “And until then?”

Felix looked over at the boys again.

“We keep him safe.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> New chapter! 
> 
> If you'd like me to continue, please drop me a comment!  
> I'd especially love to know if there was anything specific you liked!
> 
> Im still trying to flesh out my writing style from something OTHER than BNHA XD


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Felix and Sylvain begin the journey home.

"I don't understand why we're not leaving him with the nuns." Ingrid said, hushed so Felix wouldn't overhear, pulling pegasus toward Sylvain's horse.

Sylvain shrugged and glanced ahead to where Felix had dismounted and was helping his little passenger go to the bathroom at the edge of the road. The pair looked ridiculous in the snow. Felix was wearing mismatched clothing borrowed from the alliance scouts, including a violet cloak given to him by Lorenz Gloucester who had arrived to take over the alliance's investigation.

Tristan looked even more ridiculous. It wasn't as if the outpost had children's clothing at all. He was wearing a tunic with the bottom half sheared off. Instead of pants he was wearing multiple pairs of woollen socks pulled all the way up his thighs with bits of leather tied around his feet in place of shoes. His little cloak had been a thick pillow case they had split open and fashioned a hood from. It looked stupid, but it was warm enough to get them through the Daphnel pass and to Galatea territory.

"Felix is attached to the kid. He says he's not sticking him in an orphanage until he's absolutely positive there's no family left to take him in. He spent hours writing a letter to Marianne the day before last with everything he knows. I guess she's taken it upon herself to find them." Sylvain explained quietly.

"It's… strange seeing him so…" Ingrid trailed off.

"Gentle?" Sylvain asked, turning to her with a grin.

"I know that is rude of me but…"

"No, I know what you mean." Sylvain shook his head. "I think being… held prisoner affected him a lot more than he's letting on. I think taking care of Tristan is somehow helping him cope."

"If he IS planning on eventually giving him up, wouldn't it best to NOT get attached?" Ingrid asked.

"I would think so." Sylvain shrugged. "But I have found it highly counterproductive to try and tell Felix what's best and what isn't."

"I hope this ends well Sylvain. For the child and Felix both."

"I do too." Sylvain smiled at her and then looked back to Felix just as the man turned around.

"What the hell are you two staring at?" Felix barked as he lifted Tristan up and sat him on his saddle.

"Just admiring your beautiful face." Sylvain called out, urging his horse forward.

"You're wasting time." Felix huffed as he swung up into his saddle, carefully arranging Tristan in front of him before he snapped his reins, guiding his horse back onto the road. "I want to make it to one of Galatea's outposts by sunset. I have no desire to spend another cold night on the damn ground."

Ingrid and Sylvain shared a look, Ingrid rolling her eyes before taking her pegasus to the skies. She and her scouts kept watch overhead, making sure the way was safe. Likewise, Ashe and a few other scouts had left the day before to clear the path ahead.

Which left just Felix and Sylvain to travel side by side. Sylvain was glad his horse seemed smart enough to just follow the road, as he found himself staring at Felix the majority of the time.

He did love Felix's long hair. It was both beautiful and served as an extremely useful handhold in their bedroom activities. But Felix's short haircut was handsome in an entirely different way. With the… kid, Sylvain hadn't really had much 'alone' time with Felix. Not that he was dying of horniness, though he'd never say  _ no _ to a little sexy time with his man, but he was aching to just…  _ hold _ Felix. He wanted to pour out his heart, tell him the extent of how worried he was. He wanted to pull him close and run his fingers through that newly chopped hair until Felix's walls tumbled down and he became the clingy, cuddle leech Sylvain knew him to be at his core. But it was damn hard to do that when there was a child stealing your spot at his side every night.

Sylvain shifted his focus from Felix to the child in his lap. It had been over two weeks now since they first found Felix. Sylvain had been trying to pay attention to the child, trying to understand what made him special enough for Felix to act so strange and protective over him when he'd treated children with nothing but hostility in the entire time Sylvain had known him.

He couldn't figure it out.

Sylvain thought that IF Felix was to like a child, he would like one like himself. Brave, strong, impulsive, and stubborn. A kid that was fearless. Tristan was… not. Not like that at all.

He was timid and quiet, jumping at loud sounds and borderline breaking down when strangers entered the room. He cried all the time and it wasn't even normal crying, he often just held his breath, tears pouring down his cheeks until he made himself pass out. He was clingy and  _ soft. _

So no, Sylvain didn't understand why  _ Felix _ liked him, but he did know that he was growing fond of him himself. 

He shook his head and snapped his reins, pulling his horse forward and up alongside Felix's. 

"Hey there." He leaned forward so Tristan could see him. "How about we give Frix a break and you come ride with me for a while?" He asked with a soft smile.

"Call me that again and I'll shove your lance up your-"

" _ Frix _ ." Sylvain feigned astonishment. "Not in front of the kid."

"Sylvain-" Felix started.

"Come on buddy. Let's go have some real fun." Sylvain reached over and tugged Tristan out of Felix's lap, scooting him over to his own. Tristan went willingly with a smile, it took some urging from Felix, but the boy had finally accepted that Sylvain was a friend and even seemed to like the man.

"What fun?" Tristan asked as Sylvain carefully adjusted him in the saddle.

"Well…" Sylvain tightened his grip around Tristan's middle, "I was thinking we could race grumpy old Frix."

"No." Felix said flatly.

"Ready…"

"NO." Felix repeated himself.

"Set…"

"Sylvain I swear to-"

"GO!"

"SYLVAIN!" Felix shouted, but Sylvain had already kicked his horse up into a gallop. 

The wind bit at his cheeks, but he was smiling as they tore up the snowy road. He grinned as he felt Tristan's fingertips dig into his forearm, accompanied by a squeal of glee from the kid. Sylvain ignored the shouts of protest from Fleix behind them and urged the horse faster, reins snapping. He looked down, trying to see the expression on Tristan's face.

"SYLVAIN THE TURN!" Felix bellowed.

Sylvain's head snapped up just in time to see he was  _ swiftly  _ approaching a bend in the road. Far too swift.

Sylvain barely had time to drop the reins and wrap both arms around Tristan before his horse reared to a stop, sending them flying over its head.

***

Felix's eyes went wide as he watched Sylvain and Tristan fly through the air. He muttered a curse and kicked his heels in his stirrups, sending his horse into a forward gallop. A strange feeling lanced through his gut, a bit like fear but colder and  _ tighter. _ It coiled in his stomach as he flew up to where Sylvain's horse was now idly standing, free of it's riders.

Felix's horse hadn't even come to a full stop before he swung off, landing nimbly on his feet. He flung himself around Sylvain's horse, worry gripping him like a vice, and promptly stopped.

Sylvain and Tristan had landed in a snow bank, Sylvain on his back and Tristan on Sylvain's chest.

And they were laughing.

_ Hard. _

Felix felt the corners of his mouth twitch upward.

In all their time imprisoned together, Felix had never been able to make Tristan laugh like this. The kid was  _ shaking.  _ His laugh was breathy and stuttered with hiccups as he tried to prop himself up. He failed and collapsed fully against Sylvain, little hands fisting in his coat as he giggled.

And Sylvain… just looking at him made Felix feel suddenly warm, that twitch threatening to turn into an actual smile. 

Sylvain was  _ wheezing.  _ His dumb laugh was punctuated at the end of every breath with a little snort. Sylvain  _ hated _ his real laugh and took great pains to hide it, complaining of how unattractive it was.

Felix… would argue otherwise. It was positively  _ dorky _ yes, but it meant that Sylvain was so happy or entertained that he didn't bother putting up any facades. It was real. And Felix was one of only a handful that got to see him like this, unguarded and  _ real. _ This raw joy was usually reserved for their very private and…  _ intimate _ moments.

He shook his head and sighed, forcing away the thoughts before they did some horrible like making him  _ blush. _

"You IDIOT." He forced what he hoped was a chastising tone. “Reckless fool, you could have hurt him!”

Felix marched over and picked Tristan up. He was already getting… heavier than he had been during their imprisonment. It was a wonder what good food could do for a child. He lifted him, visually inspecting him for injuries. 

“Syl-bain fall!” Tristan gleefully giggled.

The smile Felix had been fighting broke free. He sighed and shifted Tristan to his hip.

“Yes he did fall.” Felix looked down at Sylvain. “Some master cavalryman he is.”

Sylvain gave one last snort and pushed himself up to a sitting position, looking up at Felix through ginger bangs, now dusted with snow.

“”I guess I lost control there for a moment.” He grinned sheepishly up at Felix.

“You think?” Felix rolled his eyes. He began to turn away but then paused. “I missed your laugh. Your real one. It’s good to hear.”

“Aw Feef!” Sylvain scrambled up to his feet.

“Shut up. If you’re done trying to kill my… Tristan, then I would like to get moving.” Felix turned to move again but Sylvain caught his arm. He was whirled around and met with Sylvain’s lips. They’d had precious few of these since they were reunited, at least ones like this, overflowing with joy and love. And when Sylvain’s fingers came up to cup the back of his head, fingers sifting through the now-short hair there, Felix melted.

He melted so much his arms went lax, their occupant tumbling down into the snow with a  _ plop. _

“Ow.” Tristan complained.

Felix reeled back in horror.

“ _ Gods _ Tris.” Felix gasped, stooping to pick him up again. “I’m sorry.”

He glanced up at Sylvain, eyes wide for a scant second before Sylvain exploded back into snorts.

“Felix we’re  _ awful  _ at this.” He wheezed, doubling over.

Felix glanced back at Tristan. The boy was staring at Sylvain with a smile of his own, seemingly no worse for wear. 

He couldn’t help it.

Felix began to laugh too.

\-------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Felix’s moan echoed in the enormous room Count Galatea had given them. His fingers fisted in the sheets, toes curling.

He moaned again.

“Goddess Feef. Keep it in your pants. It’s just a bed.” Sylvain chucked walking into the room, a paper wrapped bundle in his arms. Tristan walked awkwardly at his side, stomping his feet too hard, as if he had just learned to walk.

“This is not just a bed.” Felix moaned a third time, stretching out like a cat. “For months I have slept on the fucking ground or beds that were barely more than cots. This… THIS is heaven.”

Sylvain walked over and dumped his packages on the bed. It was a nice bed. Galatea had been harder hit than most territories during the war, but it was obvious the rebuilding efforts had gone well. The mattress was a perfect balance of firm and soft. The sky blue sheets were so soft, Felix had no doubt they were Nuvellen silk, pricey even for a count.

“Since when have you cared about the comfort of beds.” Sylvain teased.

“Shut up.” Felix grumbled. “I’m sore.” 

“Mmmmm.” Sylvain leaned in close. “I can help you with that.”

“No. Maybe. Later.”

“I suppose it would be awkward in front of our orphan.”

“Oh he’s OUR orphan now is he?” Felix, begrudgingly, sat up.

“One who you might be interested to know, is older than two summers, but younger than three.” Sylvain sat on the edge of the bed. “At least according to the clothier in the market. She has at least nine children so I deemed her a trustworthy source.”

Felix glanced over to the boy. Tristan was walking in a circle, slapping his feet against the wooden floor with deliberate force, staring at them as he did so. He looked up, perhaps sensing Felix’s gaze.

“Chews.” He said, pointing at his feet.

“Shoes.” Felix corrected with a smile.

“Chews.” Tristan looked back down at his feet and resumed his stomping. Felix glanced at Sylvain.

“I’m not sure he’s ever worn them before.” Sylvain noted. “Cute though. All the ladies in the market were fawning over him. He would have scored me SO many girls back in my ladies man days.”

Felix glared at him.

“Days that are long, long gone.” Sylvain chuckled and leaned over to press an exaggerated kiss to Felix’s cheek. He continued to chuckle as he grabbed his bundle and pushed it toward Felix. Felix shoved him away and pried open the package, fingering the cloth inside.

“As you requested.” Sylvain continued. “A change of clothes for the both of you. Obviously shoes for him. Coats. And a cloak. They might not fit the best but they’ll do till we get home.”

“At least they’re not fucking purple.” Felix muttered.

“You know Lorenz might not be happy when he finds out what you did with his fancy cloak.” Sylvain laughed, looking over to the fireplace in the corner.

“It deserved to be burned.” Felix tossed the package to the side and flopped backward into the sheets, staring at the ceiling. Sylvain stretched out next to him, dancing a hand up Felix’s chest. When Felix didn’t protest, Sylvain grinned. He hooked a leg over the other man’s and propped himself up above Felix.

“Three more days.” Sylvain breathed, mouth latching onto Felix’s neck. “Three more days and we’re home.”

His kisses trailed up the column of Felix’s throat before peppering up his jaw.

“Three more days and you’re going to teach that kid to sleep in his own bed so we can spend an entire night NOT sleeping.” Sylvain said between kisses, voice low. He moved to steal at Felix’s lips when they both suddenly froze, a new weight dipping the bed at their side. They both turned their heads slowly to see Tristan kneeling next to them.

“Hi.” He said cheerfully.

“Hello there.” Sylvain breathed.

“Can we sees the wing horsies?” Tristan asked. 

“Oh for fuck’s-” 

Sylvain slapped a hand over Felix’s mouth.

“They’re called Pegasus.” Sylvain said, smiling. “And yes we can.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This author is officially under quarantine. Hope you all like this chapter!
> 
> If you did, please drop me a comment! Let me know what you liked!!
> 
> and tell me what you want to see in this fic!


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Felix comes home.

Tristan was terrified.

He sat backward on the horse, face smashed against Sylvain’s chest, fists clenched in the man’s tunic as tightly as he could. He occasionally worked up the courage to peek out, and almost always instantly buried his face again, eyes squeezed shut.

There were people  _ everywhere _ . And they all seemed to be shouting for some reason. They exchanged clinking coins for bolts of colorful fabrics. Merchants shouted, advertising their wares. Soldiers barked out commands, guiding traffic. Children giggled and darted around as their horses moved through the city proper. 

It made Tristan’s head feel too full, something in his chest bumping too hard. He whined and turned his nose back into Sylvain’s chest.

He liked Sylvain. He was funny and warm. But he wished he was on Felix’s horse. Felix made things… quiet. He made things safe.

But the loud people all wanted to talk to Felix here in this new place. Tristan had screamed and fallen off the horse when the first loud man strode up to their horse and thrust out his hand for Felix to shake with a boom of “Welcome home sir!” Tristan had been so sure the man was going to hit him.

He’d ridden with Sylvain after that. The people didn’t bother coming up to him as much, and when they did Sylvain drew around his heavy cloak, muffling the noise for Tristan as best he could.

“Gods, was it always this loud?” Tristan heard Felix ask.

“The city market?” He felt Sylvain’s chest rumble with a chuckle. “This is tame compared to Sundays Felix.”

“I forgot how much I hated it.” Felix huffed, then suddenly his voice changed, forced politeness. “Ah thank you. It is good to be home.”

“We could have waited for nightfall.” Sylvain said after whoever had greeted Felix had passed.

“I will not sneak into my own damn city.”

“Then you can’t complain.” Sylvain’s arm tightened around Tristan as another group of people shouted and waved at Felix. “But we should hurry. Our little friend does not like this at all.”

“That’s because he’s sane.” Felix sighed. “We’re almost there Tris. A few more blocks.”

Tristan had no idea what a block was, but he relaxed his grip on Sylvain’s shirt and risked a peek once more. Felix glanced over and smiled at him. Tristan smiled back then snuggled back against Sylvain.

Sylvain and Felix would keep him safe. From the bad men… from the loud people. Forever he hoped.

\--------------------------------------

Felix audibly sighed in relief as they approached the walls of the Fraldarius estate. They were high, built for siege and defense with crenellations for archers. Blue heraldry hung from the occasional window, some for the house Fraldarius and others for the Holy Kingdom of Faerghus itself.

They passed through the walls' large gateway, and as they did the hustle and bustle of the city behind them disappeared. Beyond the walls lay a massive open area, covered in a blanket of snow and split only by a single cobblestone path. Along the perimeter of the path, tucked against the high stone walls, were a series of buildings. Barracks, only half-filled with Fraldarius soldiers during peacetime. Stables filled with horses and rushing groomsmen. Canopied sand pits with sparring men, rows of archery targets, an infirmary that was blessedly empty.

But the lawns themselves were nearly empty. During the war they had been filled with tents and mustering soldiers, smoldering campfires and the sounds of blacksmith hammers.

Now it was blissfully quiet.

“Alright Tris, take a look.” Sylvain let his cloak fall back and lifted Tristan to turn him in the saddle. He pointed up the cobblestone path to a massive stone building, not quite a castle, but larger than the Galatea’s manor house. It was surrounded by plots of carefully tended bushes. They were currently barren, but in the summer they would bloom with the most beautiful roses. White petals that faded to a summery pink at the ends. 

They existed nowhere else. Felix’s mother had crossbred the hybrids herself and loved them almost as much as she loved her children. And despite their empty leaves, Felix felt a warmth blooming in his chest at the sight of them.

“What’s that?” Tristan asked quietly. 

“That’s home.” Felix said, turning to him with a smile. 

\-------------------------------------

Felix woke up feeling more comfortable than he had in ages, even more than when he was in that huge Galatea bed. Without opening his eyes, he could feel Sylvain’s breath against the back of his neck, the man’s arm wrapped around his middle, holding Felix close. They’d HAD nightshirts on when they went to bed but Sylvain had made quick work of tossing them onto the floor. His skin was warm enough where they were pressed together and Felix allowed himself to just… bask in it.

It still didn’t feel real, that he could have this at all. That this idiot, buffoon of a gallant man he had fallen in love with when they were still children could love him back.

And yet here he was, snoring against Felix’s bare skin that lay smattered with bites and bruises he left as proof of his love. Sylvain had given up everything for Felix. His lands, his title, his family. Felix felt he gave him precious little in return… but still he stayed, insisting that Felix was all he could ever ask for.

Felix sighed and rolled in Sylvain’s arms, burrowing against him.

“Mmrf.” Sylvain mumbled. “Good morning.”

Felix said nothing, but a tremble ran through his body.

“Feef?” Sylvain asked sleepily, pushing him back slightly. “Feef are you-”

“I’m not. Shut up.” Felix said, voice cracking, betraying that he was indeed crying.

“Ok.” Sylvain drew him back to his chest and nuzzled into the top of his hair. “Happy or sad?”

“Happy.” Felix muttered, taking a deep breath. “Just… I love you.”

“I love you too.” Sylvain said softly. He curled his other arm out from under the pillows to card his fingers through Felix’s short hair.

“Tell me again.” Felix barely whispered. 

“I thought you hated when I say it too much.”

“Not today.”

Sylvain chuckled and shifted onto his elbows, propping himself over Felix.

“I love you.” He leaned down and kissed away the few tears that had escaped Felix’s eyes. 

“Thank you.” Felix smiled and lifted his hands up into Sylvain’s crazy bedhead of hair. Sylvain grinned.

“So sappy this morning. Was the sex that good?” He chuckled. “Who am I kidding, it was with me. Of course it was-”

“Oh shut up.” Felix shoved him off of him and to the side. “Do you have to ruin everything?”

“That’s sort of what I do best.” Sylvain said, amused as he flopped onto his back, stretching out over the sheets.

Felix sat up and stretched, fingers high to the ceiling. He was sore, but for the first time in a few months it was a pleasant sort and he smiled as he popped his neck and swung his legs off the bed. He let them swing, sighing as he looked up at the door to his bedchambers.

“Do you think he slept well?” 

“Tristan?” Sylvain asked.

“He… looked scared when I told him he needed to sleep in his own bed.” Felix frowned.

“Well, he’s been sleeping with you for almost two months. I imagine it will take some getting used to.” Sylvain noted. “He needed to get used to it sooner or later, it’s not like he’ll be here for long.”

“Excuse me?” Felix blinked, turning to look back at him.

“I mean… Marianne will find his family and we’ll have to send him home.” Sylvain raised an eyebrow at him.

“Right. Yes. You’re right.” Felix took a deep breath and stood. “I’ll check on him though before I head out.”

“Head out?” Sylvain sat up behind him. “Fe. You’re not training today. You got back YESTERDAY.”

“I’m  _ weak _ Sylvain. The sooner I start, the sooner I recover my strength.” Felix nodded and stood, wincing as his feet met the cold floor on his way to his wardrobe. “Not to mention I have several  _ weeks _ of fucking paperwork to do thanks to you.”

“Thanks to me!?” Sylvain blurted, baffled.

“Did you do ANYTHING while I was gone?” Felix tugged on a pair of trousers.

“I was looking for you!”

“Before you went looking.” Felix scoffed.

“I did that calvary order thing!”

“Let me rephrase my question. Did you do anything that was not related to horses while I was gone.”

Sylvain was quiet.

“That’s what I thought.” Felix turned, buttoning up his shirt. “You’re going to do every single agricultural inventory that is piled on my desk. TODAY.”

“Today!?”

Felix smirked and walked over, bending down to kiss his forehead.

“Today.” He repeated. “Or what we did last night, will not happen again until I’ve had time to do it all.”

“You are a cruel man Felix Fraldarius.” Sylvain groaned and laid back down.

Felix just kept on smiling, grabbing his sword belt before he headed out. He stepped across the wide hall and gently pushed open the door opposite his own bedroom. It had once been his own bedroom as a child, now made liveable for his little guest… though the bed was empty…

“Tristan?” He frowned, stepping inside.

He heard a gasp and suddenly a head of brown curls popped out from  _ under  _ the bed.

“ _ Frix _ !” Tristan scrambled across the floor, tripping on his too-big night shirt and slamming back down onto the wood.

“Fuck.” Felix breathed, dropping to help him up. “Take it easy kid. It’s ok. Why are you under the bed?”

“ _ Scary _ !” Tristan choked on a sob, little fingers nearly ripping the buttons off Felix’s shirt.

“Did you sleep under there?” Felix asked. He felt Tristan nod.

“I’m… sorry.” Felix sighed and hugged him, the action was becoming almost instinctual. “Do you… want to come outside with me?”

Tristan nodded. 

“Let’s get you dressed then.”

Humfery’s wife Nanini, chief housekeeper of the Fraldarius estate, had dug up a chest of Felix’s old clothes. His mother had stashed them away somewhere, probably for the grandchildren she’d never see. Felix would have her take Tristan’s measurements later to get new ones...these may have been sentimental but they were over twenty years old and horribly moth eaten. But they’d do for the day.

He guided Tristan down to the kitchens and wrapped up some breakfast for him before taking him out the estate’s front doors, leading him to the sand pits they had passed the day before. There were several open air ones, but Felix led Tristan into a building next to these. One that contained an indoor training pit and walls FILLED with weapons.

“Um… don’t… touch any of those.” Felix sat him down on the side of the pit and laid out the bundle of food for him. He then lit a coal stove in a corner, fumbling with the knobs. He didn’t usually bother with it, but he didn’t want Tristan to freeze. He stripped off his coat and folded it next to Tristan, then moved to the weapon racks. He selected a training sword at random, not wanting to dull his personal swords.

It was not quite as balanced as he liked, but he relished the challenge. He took a solid stance in the sand, in front of a training dummy that already bore long scars in it’s blackened wood. He took a single swing and winced, he’d definitely lost muscle mass, not to mention flexibility. 

“Fuck.” He muttered. He should have worked harder on his stretches in captivity. 

He swung again, fueled by disappointment, and again. He slowly moved through his forms. Very slowly, not moving on to the next one until he was satisfied with the first. It took him over an hour to do what he could normally accomplish in thirty minutes. The only reason he stopped was because he could barely lift the blade without his arms shaking.

He let it tumble to the sand, hands braced on his knees as he hunched over to catch his breath. Sweat trickled down his forehead, down his nose to drop into the sand below. He smiled. Sex was nice but THIS… this was his release, even if his performance was poor. He’d like to do it for hours, but… duty called.

He sighed, straightened, and turned to look at Tristan. The boy had eaten every speck of food in the bundle and was now fast asleep, curled up, using Felix’s jacket as a pillow. His heart twinged, hoping it was just time for a nap and not a sign of a sleepless night spent in terror under a bed.

He smiled softly and put his training sword away. He shook the crumbs out of the food cloth, stuffing it into his pocket before picking up Tristan and his jacket in one swoop.

He carried Tristan in his sore arms back to the keep and into his father’s study… well, he supposed it was his now. He frowned, furrowing his brow deeply at the literal  _ mountain _ of papers on his desk.

“Fucking Sylvain.” He muttered under his breath, rolling his eyes. He laid Tristan down on the little couch, tucked into a corner and mostly unused, pulling his jacket around the kid like a blanket. He sat next to him for a moment, absentmindedly running his fingers through his honey brown curls.

Sylvain’s earlier words echoed through his head.

_ It’s not like he’ll be here for long _

“Wherever you go…” Felix whispered. “I’ll make sure it’s a good place. Where people will love you and you’ll be happy. And safe. And for your sake I hope you fucking forget all about me and those damn bandit bastards. But um… just so you know, and I realize how pathetic this sounds… but… I don’t think I’ll ever forget about you Tristan.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am sick. I am under quarantine. I hope to fuck what I have is just a flu.
> 
> Brighten my day! Leave me a comment! Let me know if you like it!
> 
> And let me know what you think is going to happen! I might even take suggestions!


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Felix receives bad news.  
> Saying goodbye will be harder than he thought.

“BLEH!” Sylvain gasped dramatically. His hands flew to clutch his stomach as he fell to his knees, groaning again as he fell over onto his side on the rug. He raised a shaking hand, reaching out to the swordsman who had bested him.

“You got me.” He groaned. “I… I..  _ die.” _

With a ragged breath he dropped his hand, head lolling lifelessly to the side. Above him, a little voice giggled.

“Syl!” Tristan squeaked through giggly breaths, dropping the broken broom handle that had been his ‘sword’ before flopping down onto Sylvain’s chest. “You not dead!”

“I’m absolutely dead.” Sylvain said without moving, eyes still shut.

“No I want to be dead!” Tristan tapped at Sylvain’s cheek.

“Oh you do, do you?” Sylvain cracked an eye open and looked at him, then opened both with a grin. He sat up suddenly, sending Tristan tumbling into his lap. He grabbed the boy by his ankles and held him upside down, shaking him back and forth. Tristan  _ howled _ with laughter as the blood rushed to his head, his little fingers just barely brushing the tops of Sylvain’s knees.

A few yards away, Felix rolled his eyes but didn’t even bother trying to hide his smile. He should be annoyed, Sylvain was supposed to be helping him review cavalry order reports but ditched him the minute Tristan wandered in with his ‘sword’ and asked if they could play.

The two had grown close over the last few weeks. Tristan still, for whatever reason, preferred Felix. But he had become a frequent shadow at Sylvain’s heels. It was to be expected. Felix didn’t want to just...pawn the kid off on Nanini or Humfery and he didn’t trust anyone else. Sylvain had a lot more free time than he did so the man became Tristan’s...caregiver. 

Sylvain may have given up his title and his GAUTIER responsibilities, but Felix still made him his right hand man and he had plenty to do day to day. Tristan went with him to his daily stable inspections. He sat to the side when Sylvain taught lancer lessons. They ate together, NAPPED together, and Sylvain had taken to reading out loud in various places around the keep with Tristan in his lap.

Sylvain's special laugh that had once only been for Felix, started to show up around the kid. And Felix wasn’t even jealous, he… well to be honest he had never been so happy and a large part of WHY he was happy was seeing Sylvain be happy. 

Sylvain’s eyes crinkled up into smiles far more often and they damn near  _ sparkled _ with a joy that had been missing for so long. For really the first time  _ ever _ , he seemed to be living completely free from the burdens of his childhood, war, nobility, you name it. His and Tristan’s combined laughter filled the Fraldarius keep with a joy it hadn’t had since before Felix’s mother had died.

Felix spent a fair amount of time with Tristan himself, incorporating the kid into his schedule. Tristan often woke up early enough to come watch Felix during his morning training routine, just as he had that first day. He sat in the corner of the keeps hall, surrounded by some wooden blocks and soldiers Humfery had found, while Felix conducted his various meetings. When Felix did his daily walk around the keep and it’s perimeter, Tristan would scrabble after him until he could reach up and wrap his little fingers around Felix’s.

Some of his soldiers cast him… weird glances, but Felix just glared at them. There wasn’t a force in the world that would make him let go of that little hand, not when Tristan beamed up at him as he swung it gently.

It was so strange, a domesticity Felix had never experienced. And it  _ baffled  _ him that he enjoyed it.

But as was the story of his life, all good things must come to an end.

As he was watching Sylvain and Tristan play, Humfery quietly slipped in and handed him a letter that had just arrived. Felix thanked him and tore his gaze away from Sylvain and Tristan in order to read.

_ Felix, _

_ I wish I was writing with good news, but I am not. _

_ Leonie and I found out who your child is. His mother’s name was Sasha, they bear no family name. They are from a village near Ordelia. However, the man that was with them is not the boy's father.  _

_ From what we understand he was a travelling merchant that Sasha was running away with. And she was running from her husband, the boy's father.  _

_ He is not a good man Felix, and I personally will not let you send that child back to him. He’s a ferrier by trade, but barely gets any business because the people in town hate him. We talked to the constable. The man is suspected of beating Sasha in addition to the most despicable crimes against other women in town.  _

_ Leonie stayed behind to ensure he is brought to justice, but that means there is no family for the child to return from. _

_ I am so sorry I wasn’t able to give you better news.  _

_ I hope you and the child are both doing well. _

_ Marianne _

Felix swallowed hard and sat back in his chair, the letter tumbling from his fingers. He raked a hand over his face and up into his hair, long enough now to form short bangs. He knew this day was coming, they  _ couldn _ 't keep him. It wasn't practical, it wasn't logical. He and Sylvain were built for war, not child rearing. It would be a disaster for them and Tristan.

He had just hoped that there was at least a place that would take him in with open arms and loving hearts.

With a sigh he glanced back over at Sylvain. The man was laying on his rug now, chattering on about a horse while Tristan listened intently.

He was so tempted to call for a servant, have them take Tristan away. Rip the two apart before they could get any closer, minimize the pain he knew was going to hurt his partner deeply. But he didn't think he was capable of hurting him like that. No, Felix would break the news to Sylvain later, he'd let them enjoy their time together for now… limited as it now was. 

But there wasn't any reason to delay the inevitable. With another sigh, he sat up straighter in his chair and dug out a sheet of fresh parchment. He stared at it, quill held in a death grip, until he could finally force himself to write.

_ Fhirdiad Home for Boys. _

_ To whomever is in charge, _

_ My name is Felix Fraldarius… _

\--------------------------------------------

“I fail to see why you aren’t just keeping him.” Linhardt said bluntly, not even looking up from the book he read. 

He and Caspar had arrived the night before. Since the pair had given up their titles and land when they defected to Dimitri’s side during the war, the Fraldarius keep had become their new home. 

After a particularly… a horrific nighttime battle early on into the fighting, Felix had stumbled over a body in the darkened forest. It had been Sylvain’s, punctured and bleeding from a trio of different wounds. He’d frantically dragged him back to camp where Linhardt spent eight HOURS healing Sylvain and saving his life.

When the redhead awoke, Felix threw caution to the wind and kissed him for the first time. When he felt Sylvain smile against his lips, kissing him back, warm and  _ alive _ , Felix swore he would spend the rest of his life making it up to the Hevring healer.

So after the war he had given him and Caspar a set of unused rooms, but they were rarely actually there. They were far too busy travelling and having adventures, only stopping by when Linhardt demanded an extended rest, or to drop off a horde of books or souvenirs they had amassed, or when Caspar received and injury that required a longer recovery time.

The latter option was why they were here now. 

Felix glanced over to where Caspar was engaged in a tug of war with Sylvain and Tristan. He was putting up quite the challenge despite having one arm bound tightly to his chest in a full length cast and sling. Setting that many bones along that many joints was not a risk worth taking in peacetime, so here he was recovering the long way.

“What?” Felix asked.

“The boy. Sylvain mentioned you have someone coming from an orphanage next week to collect him. I don’t understand why you don’t just keep him.” Linhardt repeated himself.

“He’s a person. You don’t just keep a person.”

“Adopt him then.” Linhardt shrugged.

“That’s not… It’s not happening.” Felix glared at him a little. “Sylvain and I are not parents.”

“You seem to have kept him alive thus far.”

“He needs people that can actually take care of him, not just keep him alive.”

Linhardt sighed and shut his book, finally looking over to Felix.

“You were upset when you found out there’s no one out there to take him in who would already love him. Now he has two people here who  _ clearly _ love him.” Linhardt gestured to where Sylvain was helping Tristan hang on to their end of their tug of war rope, grinning ear to ear as he bumped his head gently against the kids. “And you’re sending him away to a place where he will just be another one of a couple dozen orphans.”

“Are you some sort of fucking expert?”

“I’m just saying. Could anything he would experience here be worse than that?” Linhardt raised an unamused brow. 

“It’s not logical. I’m a  _ duke.  _ And he isn’t even from Faerghus. Do you know how big of a fucking fit the council would throw if I took in an  _ Alliance _ commoner?” Felix sighed and lowered his head to stare at his hands. “Not to mention how much… shit he’d take for it his whole life, or big of a target it would make him.”

“But he would be happy.”

“I don’t… I would rather have him safe.” Felix said quietly. “Sylvain wants the same. He’ll forget about us in a few months anyway, he barely even asks about his mother anymore. It’s for the best. He’ll be ok.”

“Well. I hope that you two will be ok as well.”

“Like you care.” Felix huffed.

“Oh believe me, it shocks me more than you.” Linhardt shrugged. “But you two are the closest thing Caspar and I have to family so I suppose my heart has gone against logic.”

“If you get sentimental on me mage, I will throw you out of my house.” Felix grumbled.

Linhardy just chuckled and opened his book back up, leaving Felix to his thoughts. He and Sylvain had talked about pretty much nothing else for a solid week. It sucked, and it would hurt; both them and Tristan. But it… was what made sense.

Next week they would say goodbye to Tristan. 

For good.

\----------------------------------------

Felix woke to an empty bed.

He wasn’t sure what time it was, not anywhere close to morning, but far past the time when Sylvain should be in bed. 

Felix...couldn’t actually remember getting into bed himself. The women from the...boys home were coming in the morning to get Tristan and Felix could only remember deciding a glass of wine would help dull the heartache that had nearly been consuming him. One glass turned into two… and two turned into apparently enough to wipe the evening out of his mind.

He groaned and forced himself to sit up, rubbing his head. 

He needed a glass of water and might as well track down his boyfriend while he was up.

The water pitcher in his room was empty and he grumbled as he picked it up, briefly wishing he hadn’t done away with his father’s ridiculous 24 hour schedule for the staff. They were certainly happier being able to actually sleep, but it did mean he would need to shuffle all the way down to the kitchens to refill his pitcher.

To his surprise, Sylvain was not in his study where they had been drinking, nor in the kitchens. 

_ Perhaps a horse was ready to give birth. _ Felix thought to himself as he headed back upstairs, knowing the man liked to be present when a new foal was born. 

He stopped, however, when he got back to the hallway to his chambers and noticed Tristan’s door was ajar. He smiled sadly when he pushed it open and found Sylvain snoring, half hanging off of the child size bed. Tristan was also fast asleep, tucked up into his side, little fist curled lightly on Sylvain’s tunic next to an open book. A book of fairy tales Ashe had sent them with when they left Galatea territory.

Felix set his water pitcher down and moved to pick up the book.

He was shutting it when his heart stopped, realizing what story Sylvain had been reading Tristan. 

It was an old Enbarr tale, about a little lost mouse who travelled around looking for his family… eventually being taken in by a couple of cats. A classic that was supposed to imprint upon children the importance of acceptance.

Hilariously hypocritical coming from the Empire but…

Felix felt his breath catch, a lump forming in his throat. He had to duck out of the room, the back of one hand pressed to his mouth, trying to hold in a sob. His back hit the hallway wall across from Tristan’s door and he slid down it to sit. The book tumbled from his free hand as his tears tumbled to stain the wooden floor, head hung between his knees, shaking with as quiet sobs as he could manage.

He had been stabbed… burned, beaten, shot with arrows, and lanced with lightning magic and he thought that this… giving up Tristan might be the most pain he’d ever felt.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am out of quarantine and back to work. I'm with the Red Cross so I count as essential. Lucky me XD
> 
> If you liked this chapter and want me to continue, PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE leave me a comment!!!


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The moment Felix had been dreading was finally here.
> 
> And he was not ready for it.

Felix didn’t sleep a wink that night.

He sat, huddled on the floor outside of Tristan’s room until the light of dawn began to trickle into the hall, bringing with it the stumbling figue of Sylvain.

“Feef?” He muttered as he stepped toward him, sleepily sliding down to sit next to him. Felix let his head flop over onto Sylvain’s arm, his hand seeking out the redheads, twining their fingers together.

“They’ll be here before midday. And we’ll never see him again.” Felix said, the exhaustion of a sleepless night oozing into his words.

“I know. I tried explaining it to him last night. I… don’t think he understood.” Sylvain sighed.

“I hate kids Sylvain. I hate them.” Felix felt another round of tears prick at the edges of his eyes. “So why… Why does it hurt?”

“Little bugger wormed his way into our hearts didn’t he?” Sylvain forced a chuckle. “Felix you know… there’s still time to-”

“Sylvain you know we can’t.” Felix cut him off. “The court would…”

“I know. God I know. Just… wishful thinking.” Sylvian squeezed his hand. “He’ll be ok.”

“But will we be ok?” 

“As long as we’re together Feef.” Sylvain turned his head to press a kiss to Felix’s temple. “We’ll always be ok.”

Felix sagged against him, trying to believe his words. But he couldn’t help but feel that ‘we’ wasn’t the same without Tristan anymore.

\--------------------------------

They ate a somber breakfast together, at Felix’s private table within his chambers. Sylvain did his best to lighten the mood, but even Tristan could tell something was off, not giggling at the man’s antics like he usually did. 

Felix… couldn’t handle it. He left Sylvain to get Tristan packed and ready while he escaped to his training pit. He saw the… disappointment in Sylvain’s eyes when he told him he was leaving… but he had to be there any longer he would break down. And crying in front of his guards and staff was not something he wanted to do.

Instead he cried as his sword cracked into the wooden training dummies, over and over.

He snapped three blades, and when the training dummies fell, he moved to strike at the beams holding up the roof itself. 

Any men that had been inside quickly disappeared the minute Felix started sobbing. Tears mixed with sweat to run down his cheeks, his grunts of exertion mixed with bellows of heartache and rage.

It  _ hurt. _

Giving up Tristan when he had made their lives so much  _ better _ was ripping at him with a pain he never thought possible. He knew… it would make Tristan’s life better, give the kid a  _ normal _ life. They’d send the orphanage ladies with more than enough gold to ensure he had a good apprenticeship position when he came of age. He’d forget about Felix and Sylvain in time. 

He’d be happy.

And that knowledge was the only reason he was going to be able to do this.

“My Lord?” 

Humfery’s voice cut into his thoughts, causing him to freeze, his blade hanging in midair. He lowered it slowly, closing his eyes against another wave of tears. He knew why Humfery was here. He knew what the man was about to say. The moment he had known was coming from the moment Sylvain freed them from the bandits, the moment he had been pretending he could postpone.

“The women from the children’s home have arrived.”

Felix swallowed, the sword slipped from his fingers, tumbling into the sand.

“My Lord?”

“I heard you.” Felix barked, still frozen in place. “I’ll be there in a moment.”

Felix waited for Humfery to turn and leave before he did something he hadn’t done in a very,  _ very _ long time.

He sank to his knees in the sand, clasped his hands together.

And he prayed for the strength to do this.

\----------------------------------

His prayers didn’t work.

He could feel himself shaking as he stood to the side, turning an amulet of Cethleann over in his hands to disguise the way they were trembling. It was the pendant that had belonged to Tristan’s mother. The nuns had refused to allow Tristan to have it.

They’d refused to let Tristan have nearly anything of the stuff they had packed for him, save for a cloak and a single pair of extra shoes.

“It will make the other children jealous. Our boys must be equals you see, it wouldn’t do for any of them to think another special.” The nun had said as she threw the amulet to the side.

“He  _ is _ special.” Sylvain had hissed.

Felix had said nothing, just stepped to pick the amulet up. He didn’t think he was capable of speech, mind numb on purpose to keep himself from… crying or doing something stupid… like hitting a nun.

It was cold outside, the sky a gloomy gray. The only thing that could make it more depressing would be rain, though none would fall.

Tristan did not understand what was happening as they walked outside. He clung to Sylvain as the redhead carried him outside, face buried in his cloak. 

Felix had muttered a goodbye inside, ruffling the kids hair but he couldn’t bring himself to even look him in the eyes. He stood to the side, nearly throwing up with shame as Sylvain set Tristan down and kneeled in front of him. He watched as Sylvain adjusted Tristan’s cloak, then reached up to cup his face. 

Felix could see the tears streaming down Sylvain’s face as he said his goodbyes, pressing a kiss to Tristan’s forehead before the nun reached out and grabbed Tristan’s hand, pulling him away and toward a carriage.

Sylvain’s hands flew to cover his mouth, crying sobs Felix couldn’t hear over the pounding of his own heart. Sylvain remained kneeling on the ground, muddy from snowmelt from the approaching spring. 

Felix froze.

A memory crashed into him like a runaway wagon. His mother… kneeling in the almost the same spot as Sylvain was… sobbing just like the man was now as soldiers laid down a stretcher filled with empty armor. Glenn’s armor.

Felix remembered running to her, throwing himself into her embrace. She had still been crying as she brushed hair away from his face. Her skin pale with a grief she would never recover from.

_ No one should ever have to say goodbye to someone they love. Not forever. It isn’t right Felix _

_ It isn’t right. _

_ This isn’t right _ , he thought to himself, not noticing that he was starting to hyperventilate.  _ I… love him don’t I?  _ He glanced up just in time to lock eyes with Tristan. The boys big green eyes were wide with  _ terror _ and Felix watched his lips quiver. The nun’s grip was like iron and he was struggling against it, slipping in the mud so much that she was dragging him rather than leading.

“ _ Frix _ !” He called out, barely more than a squeak. “ _ Frix help!” _

Felix’s feet were moving before he could even stop himself.

_ What the fuck am I doing. What the FUCK am I doing!? _

“S-stop. STOP!” He called out, breaking into a run. He tore past Sylvain and  _ ripped _ Tristan away from the nun, drawing him up into his arms. Tristan wrapped his legs around Felix immediately, his little hands fisting tightly into his tunic. Felix protectively cupped the back of his head, pulling him as close as possible.

“Sir.” The nun sighed, exasperated. “This will only make it worse. He-”

“He’s not going.” Felix breathed, swallowing and taking a step back. “I’ve changed my mind.”

“Sir… we’ve come a long way at your request.”

“And my estate will make a generous donation to compensate you for your time. You’ll have it within the month.”

“We have already cleared a room-”

“He’s not going! He’s…. He’s mine. He’s  _ mine _ and he’s staying.” Felix’s voice grew more firm. 

The nun stared at him, looking as if she was deciding whether to argue or not before nodding.

“Very well sir. We shall expect your donation.”

Felix watched as she turned and walked back to her wagon. He waited, holding his breath, until it disappeared down the cobblestone path. When it did, he let out a shuddering breath and fell to his knees. 

“I’m sorry.” He sobbed, rocking the boy back and forth, burying his face into his honey brown curls. “I’m so sorry.”

Behind him, the mud sloshed around before Sylvain knelt next to him.

“Felix!?” The redhead breathed.

Felix looked up at him, not even caring who saw him crying now. He smiled at Sylvain before pulling Tristan away from his torso, looking into his green eyes.

“Tris.” Felix croaked. “I love you. I love you and I will make sure you never live another day without knowing that ok? I love you.” He mirrored Sylvain’s earlier action and pulled Tristan in, kissing his forehead.

“Wuv you Frix.” Tristan whispered before throwing his arms around Felix’s neck again.

Sylvain let out a disbelieving breath and then his face split into the most magnificent smile as he broke out into laughter. He grabbed Felix around the waist, yanking both he and Tristan into his arms. Felix sagged against him, laughing hysterically himself.

\-------------------------------

The afternoon sun was hot and warmed their bedroom, even through closed curtains. It spilled past the edges and cast stripes of light over the entwined limbs of Felix and Sylvain. Tristan was fast asleep, nestled between the two. His hands curled up under his chin, head pillowed on one of Felix’s arms.

Felix other hand was slowly tracing the rim of Tristan’s ear, back and forth.

The trio had washed away the mud, changed into clean clothes. Tristan had refused to be more than a foot from Felix and Felix… felt the same, keeping the boy in his arms. Sylvain just flat out refused to let either of them out of his sight. So when Tristan fell asleep, they decided a nap would do them all good.

“What’s the plan then?” Sylvain asked quietly. His arm was draped over Tristan’s middle, hand resting on Felix’s hip.

“I have no fucking idea.” Felix admitted.

“Well. As long as our family is together I suppose we can just make it up as we go.”

“Our family…”

“You, me, and the kid both of us never wanted but couldn’t let go.” Sylvain chuckled.

“I’ve never been good with family.”

“You and me both.”

“We’re going to be terrible parents Sylvain.” Felix whispered.

“Oh the absolute worst.” Sylvain confirmed. “Without a doubt.”

“Sylvain?”

“Yeah?”

“Marry me.”

Sylvain lifted himself onto an elbow, staring down at Felix. His eyes wide, reflecting the noon sun.

"Felix that's not funny." He said, swallowing back his surprise.

"I'm not joking. If we’re going to do this… family thing, we might as well do it fucking properly" Felix took a deep breath. "So, marry me."

"That's not even a question! You're not asking!" Sylvain's face was slowly morphing into a grin.

"WILL you marry me dumbass?" Felix rolled his eyes.

"Yeah." Sylvain croaked. "I think I can do that."

"Good." Felix smiled. Sylvain returned his smile and reached to pull the man closer to him, pressing a kiss to his forehead before tucking Felix's head up under his jaw.

And there, wrapped in Sylvain's arms with Tristan carefully sandwiched between them, for the first time in a very long time… Felix felt  _ whole  _ and at  _ peace _ , surrounded by his  _ family. _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this was so short. I hope it was fluffy enough to make up for it.
> 
> And I sure hope you guys are liking this fic. PLEASE drop me a comment and let me know if you are.
> 
> If there's enough interest I'd actually like to turn this into a short little series called "Felix's Family."


	10. Chapter 10

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Felix starts planning on how to make their adoption official.  
> Annette arrives with news.

“I can’t believe you had this room the entire time and didn’t tell me about it.” Linhardt grumbled from behind a stack of  _ dusty  _ books in the rarely used library within the fraldarius keep.

“If I told you, you’d never fucking leave.” Felix muttered, high up on a rolling shelf ladder, fingers running over the spines of his father’s books.

“You are aware that we technically live with you now, on your own invitation.”

“Don’t remind me.” Felix sighed, wiping his finger off in disgust on his pants. “Have you found anything?”

“Well your father certainly seemed to prefer books on military strategy.” Linhardt huffed. “But I did manage to find a few volumes on Faerghus law.”

Felix slid down the ladder and walked over to where Linhardt was sitting. He peered over his shoulder at a book filled with sections of legal code.

“And?” He asked.

“Well, I’ve only been in here for a couple hours. But from a cursory glance, I have good news and bad news.” Linhardt shut the book he was reading and opened another from a side table. “From what I understand, the court will have no reason to oppose your marriage to Sylvain. Although legally, I believe he will be required to take the title of duchess.”

Felix smirked wickedly. 

“But-” Linhardy continued and Felix’s smile fell. “Because Tristan is ah… a peasant for lack of a more delicate word, the council will likely not allow you to adopt him. He will not be able to take your name, nor be able to inherit anything.”

“That’s bullshit.” Felix hissed, even though he had almost known that explantation was coming. 

“You should be quite familiar with the concept, it is why Ashe was never formally adopted.” 

“There has to be a way. I… I need him to be mine. Legally.”

“Well I’m sure the King owes you a few favors by now. And if he doesn't, the head of the church certainly does.” Linhardt looked up at him. “I recall more than a few battles where you saved her skin.”

Felix reached out and grabbed the man’s shoulder.

“Build me a legal case and you can  _ have _ this library.”

“Well.” Linhardt’s eyebrows shot up and he smiled. “You certainly know how to convince a man.”

\------------------------------------

Sweat dripped down Sylvain’s entire body. He felt it running down the middle of his back, pooling in his inner elbows and knees, staining his simple tunic. Horse chores were something he’d always never minded doing. And since Felix put him in charge of the Fraldarius stables they were something he’d been doing a lot. 

Of course there were plenty of groomsmen and stablehands to help with the day to day chores, but Felix preferred to take care of the small private stable that housed their handful of personal steeds themselves whenever they could.

Not that Felix was helping.

At all.

Sylvain supposed it was only fair. He ditched Felix when they were supposed to be doing paperwork. Felix ditched him when they were supposed to be mucking out stalls.

He sighed and tossed his shovel to a far wall, propping his arms up on a window ledge so he could look outside. The winter was finally passing into spring and the day was warm enough to spend outside.

Sylvain couldn’t help but smile, resting his chin on his arms as he peered out at a scene that made his insides feel like warm pudding.

Felix was kneeling on the crispy grass revealed by the melting snow, it was yellow but sure to green up as it got warmer. His arms were wrapped carefully around Tristan, guiding his little around a wooden training sword Felix had dug out of an old chest. Tristan’s face was wrinkled up in concentration, but Felix was beaming. His smile so… radiant that Sylvain had to brace himself against the wall a little, lest his knees give out.

When his legs felt solid enough to walk on, he wiped his hands off and walked out to them.

“A little early to start him on sword training.” He mused, plopping onto the grass beside them.

“Our son will be able to defend himself.” Felix said, his smile not fading.

Sylvain opened his mouth to respond, but stopped when the weight of what Felix had just said hit him.

“Our son.” Sylvain parroted.

“Too… soon?” Feliz looked over at him, smile faltering.

“No. No of course not. I mean, That’s what we want right?” Sylvain reached out and squeezed his arm reassuringly. Felix nodded.

“It’s just weird to hear it out loud I guess.” Sylvain shrugged. “It’s not something I ever thought I’d have. HE’S something I never thought I’d have. I didn’t want a wife and kids Feef.”

“And now?”

“Well, turns out a  _ husband _ and kids is something I want.” Sylvain shuffled closer and bonked his head lightly against Felix’s temple. “Badly now that it’s dangling in front of me.”

“The council is likely to say no.” Felix said.

“What will we do then?”

“They will say no. Which means that the only way I will be able to give him my name and make him mine… ours… is to give up the title behind the name.” Felix said quietly.

“You are going to… Why does it have to be official? We can love him and take care of him with or without the-” Sylvain began to argue.

“No.” Felix cut him off. “You grew up knowing your parents cared more about your blood and your title more than they actually cared about you. Do you EVER want him feeling like that?”

“I… see your point.” Sylvain.

“And… I want him to share our name.”

“Our name?” Sylvain raised an eyebrow. “Do you know something I don’t know?”

“You did agree to marry me.” Felix smirked. “Linhardt said that you’re legally going to have to be my duchess. Name kind of comes with that.”

“Duchess.” Sylvain made a face that sent Felix into poorly concealed and very unmanly giggles. “And I have to be a Fraldarius?”

“Fralarmyness! That mine!” Tristan said, remembering the word from what felt like ages ago when they had been hostages.

“What?” Sylvain asked.

“He didn’t know his family name when we were captured. He asked if he could borrow mine.” Felix reached out and cupped Tristan’s cheek, running a thumb over his freckles. “But it looks like he’ll be keeping it forever.”

“You…” Sylvain breathed. “You are getting soft.”

Felix grabbed Tristan’s wooden sword and thumped Sylvain over the head with it.

\------------------------------

Felix was, much to his surprise, well liked by the people in his territory. Turns out if you weren’t a huge dick and you cared more about the health and happiness of your people than amassing unnecessary wealth… Well, Felix was popular.

Which meant that every soldier, farmer, blacksmith, and gossipy old nanny in Fraldarius land wanted a glimpse of the little boy living with their Duke.

And Tristan… just wasn’t ready for that kind of attention. Nor was Felix willing to...share just yet.

So when he and Sylvain had business to attend to in the city, they reluctantly left Tristan in the care of Linhardt. While Tristan was still wary around the loud and energetic Caspar, he liked Linhardt well enough. And the sleepy scholar seemed to like him and had taken to reading out loud to him in the library.

The library was exactly where he left them.

However, when they got back from their meeting, Linhardt, Caspar, and… Annette for some reason… were all standing in the large entry hall of the keep, whispering in hushed tones. When they saw Felix, they all fell silent and stared at him.

“Before you say anything, I can expla-”

“Where is Tristan?” Felix glared at them, his firm question cutting Caspar off.

“See um… We uh….” 

“Where. Is. He?” 

“We lost him.” Linhardt said flatly.

Felix grabbed Linhardt by the vest he was wearing and shoved him up against the stone wall.

“WHAT DO YOU MEAN YOU LOST HIM!?” He roared.

“Hey it’s HER fault, not ours.” Caspar wrenched his boyfriend out of Felix’s grip, leaving the duke free to whirl on Annette, his eyes shooting daggers at her.

“What did you do!?”

“Im sorry!” Annette squeaked, hands flying up to cover her mouth.

“She told him she was going to eat him.” Linhardt huffed, straightening his vest. “And he screamed and took off running.”

“You told him what?” Sylvain asked Annette, finally entering the conversation.

“I said he was so cute I could eat him.” Annette admitted bashfully. 

“Oh my gods.” Felix groaned. “You fucking idiots.”

He let his shoulder bump rather aggressively against Caspar’s as he stormed past them all, heading further into his home, leaving them all behind. He thundered up the stairs that led to his personal rooms and started walking slowly up the hallway, pushing open doors slowly.

“Tristan?” He called out. “Tris I’m home.”

“Tristan?” He stepped into Tristan’s room, peeking under the bed. Tristan was nowhere in sight, but Felix’s anger at the idiots downstairs melted a little. A small smile played across his face as he took in Tristan’s room. When they first stashed him in here, the room had been empty save for a bed and a chest of old moth eaten clothing.

Now it was...cozy. His chest was now overflowing with new clothes. A little shelf had been added, already a little stash of books on it. A couple of wooden horse figures, gifts from Sylvain, were spread out on top. The sheets and blankets on his bed were new and colorful, in hues of blue, yellow, and white. A cloth teddy bear rested on top, a gift from Ingrid.

Felix made a mental note to find maybe some bright paintings or tapestries to hang on the walls to brighten them a bit.

Satisfied, however, that Tristan wasn’t in the room, he stepped back out in the hall corridor where he spotted Tristan peeping out of his and Sylvain’s bedchambers.

“Tris?” 

Tristan let out a sob and tore down the hallway toward him. He clutched one of Felix’s cloaks around himself and it trailed behind him as he ran.  _ He must have been in my wardrobe, _ Felix thought as he met him halfway, dropping to his knees to catch him in a hug.

“Hey, hey it’s ok. Why are you crying?” Felix tossed the cloak off to the side to better hold him.

“Scary lady eat me!” Tristan sobbed.

“She’s not going to eat you. She’s an idiot, but she’s my friend.” Felix reassured him.

“She said!” 

“That’s just a saying that foolish women say. I promise she won’t eat you. She’s… She’s actually very nice.” Felix felt his cheeks warm and was glad Annette wasn’t here to hear the compliment, he would never hear the end of it. 

Tristan seemed unconvinced and continued to sob.

Felix sighed and opened his mouth. He was about to… scold Tristan. The words  _ You cry too much _ were about to leave his mouth when he snapped it shut. A  _ vivid  _ memory of his father saying the exact same thing, usually accompanied by a smack…. The horrible feeling it left with Felix… The way it  _ ruined _ his relationship with his father for most of his childhood.

_ No, _ Felix thought.  _ I am NOT going to be HIM. _

Instead, Felix drew the boy closer, whispering all the things he wished his father would have said.

“It’s ok Tris. I’ve got you. You’re safe.” Felix murmured, rocking him back and forth. “You’re ok.”

He continued to hold him until the sobs subsided into sniffles, then the sniffles into yawns. Felix pulled back to look at him, pushing back his tear and sweat soaked hair.

“I think it may be time for a nap. My dumbass friends gave you a rough morning huh?” Felix asked. “You sleepy?”

Tristan nodded. Felix smiled at him and scooped him up, grabbing the cloak before he stood. He took Tristan back down to his and Sylvain’s room and deposited him on the bed, wrapping him in the cloak like a blanket. He laid next to him, turning so they were almost nose to nose and ran his fingers in a repeating circle around his ear.

Tristan didn’t even struggle, his eyes drooped and within minutes he was out. Felix stayed for a few more minutes, trying to just… accept the depth of feeling he had for the kid. He could lay here forever, but there were things… idiots downstairs that needed his attention.

“I love you.” He whispered before scooting off the bed quietly, shutting the door so the child wouldn’t be distubed by any shouting Felix was sure was going to happen.

He walked back down to the main hall, preparing the chew the fuck out of Annette and the other two idiots he allowed to live in his house, but stopped when he realized, once again, someone was missing.

“Where is Sylvain?” He asked.

Annette, Caspar, and Linhardt all looked up at him.

“Armory.” Caspar said.

“Then the stables.” Linhardt added.

“...why?” Felix asked.

“He’s going to Gautier.” 

“Why?” Felix asked again, a twinge of worry already twisting in his gut.

“To kill his father.”

Felix blanched, staring at them. They were all dead serious and looked just as worried as he now felt.

“ _ Why? _ ” Felix breathed for a third time.

“That’s why I came.” Annette said with dread. “I have news from the capital.”

“What?” Felix found himself utterly incapable of managing more than one syllable questions.

“It’s about Tristan.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this took so damn long. I work for the Red Cross and hopefully you can imagine how insane it's been with Covid trying to maintain our blood supply.
> 
> Leave me a comment! What do you think the news it?


	11. Chapter 11

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Things get hairy for our little family.  
> Sylvain and Felix split up.
> 
> And the Margrave? He's a dick.

_Felix anid Sylvain,_

_I pray this letter finds you in good health. I am sending it with Annette to ensure it does not fall into anyone else's hands as we cannot risk news of this getting out._

_My informants in Leicester have brought back word from Claude. He has been conducting his own investigation into how the band of Sreng made it into his territory._

_His soldiers found a survivor a handful of miles from the lodge where Felix was held. The man was near death and it took their healers nearly two months before he was healed and sane enough to be interrogated._

_The information they were finally able to get out of him is extremely troubling._

_His name is Tipo and he claims that not only was his group let into our lands by Margrave Gautier, they were hired by the Margrave to assassinate Felix. They evidently knew that Felix would not be able to return by sea and knew he would have to go through Daphnel pass._

_Fortunately for us, the Margrave made the mistake of paying them in full beforehand. Therefore Tipo said instead of killing you Felix, they decided to ransom you for an even larger reward._

_I have sent my own spies into Gautier to find proof of this before making any accusations. During their investigation they uncovered multiple coded letters from the Margrave that suggest he has hired more assassins and is still trying to kill Felix._

_And I wish my terrible news ended there, but there is more. The most recent letters my men have found refer to killing ‘The wolf and his pup’ and I fear that means the Margrave is trying to harm the boy you have taken in._

_My men are still gathering evidence and I beg of you not to do anything rash. I tell you this news only so that you can keep yourselves safe. Please come to Fhirdiad, I want your assistance in bringing the Margrave to justice._

_Stay. Safe._

_-Dimitri_

_\--------------------------------_

The letter fell from Felix’s fingers and he was sprinting away before it reached the ground, tearing down the hall and out the doors.

His boots barely touched the cobbles long enough to make sound as he flew down the path leading from the keep toward the stables. 

Fear gripped his heart. He hadn’t thought Annette was being serious until she’d handed him the rolled up parchment. What he saw on the paper sent both a fury and an ice cold terror stabbing through him. Not for himself, though the words on the page were meant for him. He was terrified for Sylvain. Terrified BECAUSE of Sylvain.

Because Annette hadn’t been exaggerating.

Sylvain was going to murder his own father.

That is, unless Felix could stop him.

Felix made it to the stables just in time to see two stablehands dive out of the doorway as a rider burst through on a pitch black mare, a blue of orange hair.

He panicked and did the only thing he could think of, he sent the… _gentlest_ thoron blast he could right at his lover. 

Sylvain yelped as the blast of thunder magic hit him. His horse reared up, sending the lancer tumbling off onto the packed dirt just inside the keep’s courtyard gate.

Felix wasted no time, he ran over and dove to sit on Sylvain’s abdomen, pinning him down.

“What the hell Felix!?” Sylvain groaned.

“Are you insane!?” Felix ignored his question, reaching to thump his shoulder. “What the hell do you think you are doing!?”

“My BACK hurts now you ass!”

“Linhardt will heal it.” Felix swatted him again. “Where do you think you’re going!?”

“Let me go Felix.”

“No.” Felix firmly planted his hands on the man’s shoulders.

“Get OFF me.” Sylvain growled.

“I will do no such thing. You’re acting foolish Sylvain.”

“I’m being foolish!? Did you read that letter!?”

“Yes I read the letter!”

“He tried to KILL YOU Felix. And now he’s trying to KILL TRISTAN. HOW DO YOU NOT WANT TO KILL HIM!?” Sylvain was shouting now, tears pooling in the corners of his eyes, but Felix couldn’t tell if they were from anger or pain.

“OF COURSE I WANT TO KILL HIM!” Felix shouted back. “BUT IM NOT AN IDIOT!”

“Felix-”

“No Sylvain!” Felix cut him off. “If I let you go and you kill him what good will it do? If you kill him before he is charged you will caught and arrested for MURDER. You’ll get tossed in a cell and I’ll be left ALONE.”

Sylvain opened his mouth to speak but Felix cut him off by punching his shoulder.

“You PROMISED you would never leave me!” Felix punched him again, not hard enough to really hurt, but enough to get his frustration across. “You promised!”

“Fe… I-”

“And we have Tris to think of now! He _loves_ you Sylvain. How the hells are you going to help me raise him if you are in a dungeon or _executed_. Tris-”

Felix froze, his eyes going wide.

“Felix? Tris what?”

“I left him alone. There could be fucking assassins and I left him _alone._ ” Felix gasped and scrambled off of Sylvain.

Panic gripped at Felix’s chest as he ran back the way he came. He took the stairs two and three at a time to reach the floor with his living rooms, sprinted down the hallway and back to his bedroom.

He stopped in the doorway, sagging against the frame with relief. 

Tristan was still there, his little chest still rising and falling under the thin blanket. 

Sylvain appeared behind him, a little breathless and definitely in pain. The thoron blast… may not have been Felix’s best idea in hindsight.

“Is he ok?” Sylvain asked.

“He’s fine.” Felix whispered. He sighed and walked into the room, sitting on the bed next to the kid. Sylvain followed him after a moment, pulling a wooden chair up to the side of the bed. He stared at them both for a moment before hanging his head down into his hands.

“You can’t kill him Syl.” Felix said quietly.

“I know.”

“I wish you could. I wish I could. I wish I could rip him apart. But if we kill him before he’s even been convicted of anything even Dimitri couldn’t save us from murder charges. We need to know for sure. And we need to let Dimitri take care of it.” 

“I know.”

“ _Legally._ ” Felix added. “I _can’t_ do this without you.”

“I _know._ ” Sylvain looked up at him, then over at Tristan. Felix reached down and pulled one of his hands into his own.

“It’s funny I guess.” Sylvain continued.

“What about this situation is funny Sylvain?”

“We’ve had him… just a few months. And I love him. I’m not even technically his father yet and I would _kill_ for him already. And yet my dear old dad, who had me since birth… never loved me. And now he hates me so much that he’s trying to kill the two people I love just to hurt me.” Sylvain chuckled weakly, squeezing Felix’s hand.

“If it helps… I don’t think it’s just to hurt you.” Felix squeezed back. “He would gain new lands too. If I was to die we both know Dimitri would split my lands between Gautier and Galatea. Unless… I had an heir.” 

“Fucking Bastard. That’s why he wants Tristan too.” Sylvain breathed out in understanding. “If we officially adopt him, even if you die then the lands will just be held till he’s of age.”

“I knew… I knew staying with us would put him in danger Sylvain.”

“Yeah well… at least he’s here where we can protect him.”

“That was my point earlier idiot.” Felix shoved his hand away. “If you got your ass tossed in a dungeon what the hell would I do? I HIGHLY doubt we will be successful in this parenting thing as it is, alone I… I couldn’t do it.”

“I’m not going anywhere.” Sylvain reached back out and forced Felix to take his hand again. “At least not if your thoron has anything to say about it.”

Felix rolled his eyes and looked back to Tristan, but didn’t bother pulling his hand away again.

“He will pay for this Sylvain.” Felix said. “I won’t let you kill him. But he will pay for this.”

\------------------------

Sylvain woke with a start, bolting to a sitting position in bed. He blinked in the dark, heart hammering, looking around for what woke him up.

Felix was still fast asleep on the other side of the bed. The blankets had slipped down revealing his bare back, a pale arm hanging off the side of the feather mattress; his skin almost glowing in the moonlight. The room was peaceful, and Sylvain decided he must have had a nightmare about something that he just forgot.

He took a deep breath and wiggled back into the sheets, turning on his side to toss an arm over Felix’s back. He buried his face into Felix’s neck and let his eyes flutter back shut, content to drift back to sleep-

And then he heard it.

A faint yelp followed by the unmistakable clash of metal on metal.

He sat back up and smacked Felix as he rolled out of bed.

“Mmm. What?” Felix groaned, muffled into his pillow.

“Something’s wrong.” Sylvain said.

“What’s wron-” Felix was cut off by a bell ringing from elsewhere in the keep, followed by the sounds of armored boots thundering up the stone steps out in the hall.

“ _Intruders!!!! Intruders my lord!!!”_ A voice shouted from far away.

“ _Fuck_.” Felix breathed, flinging himself out of the bed. He turned around just as Sylvain tossed him one of the swords they kept behind the headboard of their bed. He caught it and moved to unsheath it when a high pitched scream froze both he and Sylvain in their tracks.

“ _Tristan.”_ Sylvain gasped, ripping his own sword from its scabbard. The pair sprinted out of their bedchambers in tandem. A figure was standing in the doorway of Tristan’s room and they wasted no time, falling into tactics from their war days.

Sylvain let out a roar and barreled down the hall. He flung his entire bodyweight into the man, tackling him to the ground. He felt more than saw Felix leap over them into the room where Tristan was scrambling back on his bed, still screaming.

Felix dove forward and wrapped an arm around his middle, hauling him off the bed. He turned the boy away so that he wouldn’t see as Sylvain smashed the man’s head onto the ground, rendering him unconscious.

“He’s fucking _Srengi.”_ Sylvain hissed, looking up to Felix as the man turned around.

“Sent by your father no doubt.” Felix walked over as Sylvain stood and gently handed him Tristan. “Get him out of the keep. Use the tunnels. I’ll meet you at the safehouse.”

“Where are you going?”

“Listen.” Felix nodded toward the hallway. “There’s fighting downstairs. My men need me.”

“I should go then, you take him-”

“You’re shit in close quarters and you know it Sylvain.” Felix stepped up to him and brought a hand up to cup Sylvain’s cheek. It wasn’t a gentle touch, his grip was hard. “I will defend my home. You will defend our… son”

“Fe-”

“Keep him _safe_ Sylvain.”

Sylvain looked like he was going to argue, but after a moment he deflated, pulling the still sobbing Tristan closer to his chest. 

“You be safe.” he commanded in a gentle tone, looking deep into Felix’s eyes.

“If Im not there by morning, take him and get to Fhirdiad.”

“Felix.”

“ _Promise me Sylvain._ ” Felix growled.

“Fine. But don’t you dare do that to me. We have our own promise to keep.”

“I know. _”_ Felix made sure Tristan was looking away before he plunged his blade through the Srengi man’s neck, killing him, ensuring that he couldn’t follow his little family as they escaped. “Now go.”

Sylvain nodded and watched as the love of his life sprinted from the room, sword drawn, heading for the stairs.

He took a deep breath and shifted Tristan to one arm. He grabbed his sword from where it had fallen on the floor and walked swiftly back to his and Felix’s room, trying to calm Tristan down as he went.

“It’s ok buddy. I got you. It’s ok.”

“SCARY!” Tristan sobbed, burying his face against Sylvain’s neck. His little arms and legs wrapped around him so hard that Sylvain was struggling to breath as he dragged a plain brown cloak out of a chest and threw it on, wrapping it around them both. 

That was the only thing he grabbed. Still shirtless and shoeless, he moved to the tall wardrobe and used his body weight to shove it to the side, revealing an old wooden door. He yanked it open and stepped into a dusty and spider-webbed ridden spiral stairwell barely wide enough for him and Tristan to fit inside.

“Shhhh shhh shh. Look where we are Tris, we’re hiding from the bad guys.” Sylvain pulled the door shut behind him and knelt down, trying to gently detach the kid. “Hey I need to put you down for just a minute ok? So I can light a lantern so we can see.”

Tristan whined, but did not let go.

Sylvain sighed and did his best to work around him. He felt around until he found the little alcove in the stone that had a lantern as well as a flint and steel to light it. He fumbled with it, reaching around Tristan, until the lantern wick caught and an eerie orange light flooded the cramped space.

Tristan gasped when the light came on. He was still crying, but he did lift his head to look around.

“See ? That’s better isn’t it?” Sylvain stood. He used his forearm to support Tristan’s weight so that he could use that hand to hold the lantern, leaving his other hand free to hold his sword out defensively. He started slowly down the stair case.

“Where this?” Tristan asked, still sniffling, head pillowed on Sylvain’s shoulder.

“A safe place.” Sylvain explained as calmly as he could, despite the near overwhelming rush of adrenaline coursing through his system. He knew Tristan wouldn’t necessarily understand the explanation, but talking helped him stay calm so he kept on speaking.

“There’s a bunch of tunnels that run under the keep. Felix’s ancestors built them a long long time ago. He mostly uses them for storage now, stockpiling things like weapons and stuff. It’s a little bit of a maze. We used to play down here when we were kids until Ingrid got lost one time for _hours_.”

As if to prove his point, he stepped out of the bottom of the staircase into a short hall that split off into five different directions. He headed immediately down one of them, following a path through twists and turns that Felix had made him memorize long ago.

It was frigid in the tunnels and Sylvain ended up pulling the cloak off to completely wrap Tristan in. He welcomed the cold; it kept him alert even though it was the middle of the night. Alert enough to freeze when he heard a sound coming from around the corner he was about to turn down. 

He crouched immediately and snuffed the lantern. He set Tristan down and brought his face close to whisper.

“Be quiet. There’s bad guys and we don’t want him to find us. Can you be quiet as a mouse?”

“Uh huh.” Tristan whispered, but Sylvain could feel him trembling in the dark. He wrapped his arms around his little frame and pressed a kiss to his temple before moving to peek around the corner. 

A dozen yards ahead a lone figure was illuminated by a single torch. Sylvain cursed in his mind.

 _Of fucking course._

It made sense. Felix had at least twenty men on the nightwatch outside the keep. If the Sreng had entered the keep from outside, they would have been alerted long before they could get all the way to their living quarters. Which meant they entered from _inside_. From the tunnels.

The tunnels which Margrave Gautier knew about, just like Sylvain knew about them growing up.

But it was only one man; one man positioned right where the staircase that led up to the tunnel exit was. The exit he needed to get Tristan out of.

Sylvain swore again under his breath and felt his way back to Tristan. He knelt down and softly grabbed the boy’s hands and pulled them up to kiss them.

“I’m going to go fight the bad guy ok? But I promise I will be right back. Can you be brave for me?” Sylvain was still whispering.

He felt Tristan nod.

“OK. Goddess kid I don’t know how it happened but I love you so much.” Sylvain kissed his little hands again then pulled them further up. “Plug your ears ok? And don’t move until I come get you.”

Tristan covered his ears, still shaking. Sylvain pulled the cloak around him then pressed a final kiss to his forehead. 

He backed away and found his sword on the ground. He gripped it tightly and then started around the corner, trying to remain stealthy. 

He was not gifted with sword skills, not like Felix. And Felix HAD been right earlier, Sylvain wasn’t amazing at close quarters combat. But he wasn’t imcompetant, and it was only one man… and Sylvain had the advantage of surprise. 

He could do this.

He would do this.

He would do this for Tristan. 

He adjusted his grip and tried to recall every bit of sword training the professor had made him do. He hadn’t seen the point of it then, but was damn grateful for it now.

There would be no way to sneak up on the man in the last few yards. Sylvain took a deep breath, then charged the last few feet. He raised his sword to strike at the man who yelped at his sudden entrance. The man scrambled for a spear that was propped against the wall, but Sylvain was faster.

He brought his sword down, cleaving the man’s arm off near the elbow. The man screamed, but that was cut short when Sylvain used his momentum to bring the blade back up, slicing through his throat. 

The Srengi man crumbled to the ground and Sylvain sagged in relief, heaving in deep breaths. He allowed himself only a second before he turned back, meaning to go grab Tristan and get the hell out of there.

But he froze when _someone_ started laughing.

He turned around and watched in horror as a large _beast_ of a man stepped out of the staircase and into the light. He was massive and covered in traditional Srengi furs, lantern light flickering over the shiny surface of the two metal gauntlets on his fists. Gauntlets covered in little spikes like the head of a mace.

“Not bad little man.” The man laughed in a thick accent. “You killed the lookout boy. Let us see how you fare against a true warrior.”

Sylvain felt every fiber of his being turn to ice and he faltered backward when the man lunged at him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this took so long! I probably rewrote the last half of this like a dozen times.
> 
> Let me know what you think! Comments keep me writing and Im a whore for them bwhahah.


	12. Chapter 12

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Our little family attempts to make it out of the city.

Sylvain collided with the cold stone wall as he dodged to the side, air whooshing past him as the man swung a gauntleted fist just where Sylvain’s head had been. He didn’t even have time to take a breath before the beast's other hand was flying at him.

Sylvain dropped to his knees and the man’s gauntlet slammed into the stone above him. The little spikes got stuck in the wall’s cracks just long enough to give Sylvain the chance to roll to the side. 

The man swung at him several more times before Sylvain remembered that you were supposed to fight back when dueling for your life. He did his best to dodge attacks in the narrow hallway whilst striking when he could, but his opportunities were few and far between. The man was fast despite his massive size and Sylvain was forced to stay on the defensive. He only landed a few hits and he wasn’t even sure his slashes were deep enough to draw blood.

As their deadly dance continued, Sylvain could feel himself growing closer to exhaustion. It was taking everything he had to knock the man’s fists away with the flat of his blade. He was beginning to regret not keeping up with a regular training schedule like Felix wanted him too.

Eventually his reflexes grew too sluggish.

He narrowly missed one gauntlet, but even as he dodged he knew he wasn’t going to miss the second. The man’s left fist collided into his side, his ribs cracking under the force of the metal gauntlet. 

It wasn’t until the man drew his hand back that Sylvain even realized three of the spikes on the gauntlet had pierced him. Blood poured from the punctures and Sylvain stumbled back, falling to his knees.

His hands flew to hold his side, sword clattering to the ground, his eyes flying up to look at the man.

“Gotcha.” The man sneered, lip curling into a grin that revealed rotting teeth.

Sylvain opened his mouth.

A scream split the air.

But to Sylvain’s horror, it didn’t come from him.

There, at the end of the hall in the furthest reaches of torchlight, wrapped in Sylvain’s cloak, was Tristan. His eyes trained on them, still screaming.

 _No._ Sylvain thought to himself. _No. Run. run run run run._

The Sreng man turned.

“The wolf pup.” He turned back to Sylvain and grinned again. “I think I’ll let you watch him die”

He took a single step down the hallway toward Tristan and something in Sylvain _snapped._

All the pain in his side melted as a type of anger he had never felt before overtook him, filling his exhausted body with an almost supernatural strength. He grabbed his sword, grip steady despite the blood covering his hands. 

“You will not touch my _son._ ” He hissed in barely more than a whisper.

He didn’t remember standing up, only lunging forward with a roar. His blade pierced skin, muscle, and organ as he plunged it up through the man’s back. It split out through the man’s chest and he collapsed, landing face down on the rough stone floor. A gurgle the only sound he made before he went eerily still and lifeless.

Sylvain wasted no time. He left the sword embedded in the man’s back, stepping over him and dashing back down the hall. He gathered Tristan up, both arms and his ribs screaming in protest but at this point he was riding the wave of paternal protective-adrenaline. 

He used one hand to pull Tristan’s face into his neck, muffling his cries. 

“It’s ok Tris. It’s ok. I got you.” 

He stumbled with him up the stairs the men had been guarding and out a nondescript wooden door. He stepped out onto an empty cobblestone street, lit by the moonlight. He didn’t go far, crossing to a wood and stone house sandwiched in a long row of other houses.

He shifted Tristan to one hip so he could fumble a hand along the wall around the door, looking for a loose stone. It was getting harder to see, and Sylvain prayed that it was because a cloud was passing over the moon and not from blood loss. When he finally found the stone, he pulled it from the wall, revealing a hidden hole with an iron key. 

The building was a safehouse that Felix’s father had set up during the war, which meant the Margrave Gautier wouldn’t know of it’s existence.

It was dusty, covered in cobwebs.

But it was safe.

Sylvain stepped inside and bolted the door behind him. He peeled Tristan off him and set him on a bed in the corner, a cloud of dust billowing out from under him, illuminated by the moonlight streaking in from barred windows. He fumbled with a stack of tinder and matches for a long minute before he could get a fire going in the hearth, adding some logs from a nearby stack. 

Once the room was illuminated he was able to scavenge around the crates Felix kept stocked here for some medical supplies. He packed some bandages over the three punctures and hoped it was enough to stop the bleeding because he knew he was minutes away from passing out.

He didn’t even make it back to the bed, passing out in the middle of the floor.

\--------------------------------------

Felix stared at the bodies lying in the tunnel, particularly the one with a sword sticking out from it’s back.

It was Sylvain’s sword.

And Sylvain was nowhere to be found.

“I’m sure he’s fine.” Caspar said.

“Then why would he leave his sword?” Linhardt asked, gingerly stepping to avoid the pools of drying blood on the ground.

“Lin. Not helping.” Caspar shot his partner a dirty look.

“Well. At least his body isn’t here. Perhaps they’ve merely kidnapped them.”

“ _Linhardt.”_ Annette scolded this time, reaching over to smack the mage before putting her hand on Felix’s shoulder. “I’m sure they’re ok.”

Felix couldn't respond, fearful that he may vomit if he tried, fearful that Linhardt may be right.

“There’s only one set of footprints in the blood. And they’re barefoot. That has to be Sylvain right?” Caspar said, a little closer to the staircase.

“I… I don’t know. I don’t know if he put on shoes.” Felix took a deep breath, then shoved past them all, “We’ve wasted enough time. If they made it to the safehouse we need to get to them and get out of the city.”

He avoided the tracks in the blood and made his way up to the street. The sun was still an hour or so from rising, but the sky had already lightened to the first pale blues of the approaching dawn. He made his way quickly across the street, his three friends following close behind. 

He was relieved to find the key was missing, which meant that Sylvain _had_ to have made it inside. He knocked a specific pattern on the door, one Sylvain would recognize as Felix.

And waited.

Behind him his friends watched up and down the streets. Felix and his men had… taken care of the rest of the Sreng that had made it inside the keep, but that didn’t mean there couldn’t be more out here in the city.

No one answered.

Felix knocked again.

“Sylvain.” He called out as loudly as he dared. Knocking again. “Sylvain you idiot it’s me.”

No answer. He stepped back.

“Caspar could you-”

“On it.” Caspar cut him off and threw himself at the door. It took three hits, but eventually the wood beam bolting the door on the other side shattered under the force of the bruises and the door flung open inward.

“Oh fuck.” Caspar gasped.

Felix pushed Caspar aside so he could step in, eyes going immediately to what Caspar had seen.

Sylvain was laying on the ground, his torso covered in red soaked, haphazardly placed bandages. He was motionless and so. Fucking. Pale.

He let out a choked cry and dove to him, landing on his knees. He cupped his head between his palms, a hand desperately seeking out a pulse. It was there, but it was weak.

“Linhardt!” Felix sobbed. “Linhardt _please._ ”

The mage was at his side in moments, rolling Sylvain out of Felix’s grasp and onto his back, white magic already glowing at his fingertips.

“I need room. And water.” Linhardt ordered, falling easily back into his role as a war medic. “Annette could you assist me with his clothes.”

Felix scooted back, making room for Annette and Linhardt to work. He stood, meaning to dash for the water barrels he kept in the back of the safehouse when he realized something was still missing.

“T-Tris? TRISTAN!?” Felix started yelling, spinning to look around the room. “TRISTAN!? TRIS-”

“ _Frix_?”

Felix spun to see Tristan peek out from where he had been hiding behind a stack of crates.

“Frix!” Tristan sobbed, crawling out and standing to scramble over, giving Felix a good look at him. He was covered in dust and the front of his night shirt was _soaked_ in blood.

Felix’s heart bottomed out in his stomach and he sobbed again.

“No no no. Goddess no _please!”_ Felix dropped to his knees and caught the boy. “Where are you hurt?”

Tristan didn’t respond, he had already started to cry again and was trying to bury himself against Felix’s chest. But as much as Felix wanted to hold him and never let him go, he held him at arm's length, desperately searching for the source of the blood, hands probing for injuries.

But he found nothing. Even when he gingerly stripped the night gown off him… there was nothing. It wasn’t his blood. The relief Felix felt was overwhelming and tears slipped free of his eyes, sliding down his cheeks.

“Are you ok?” Felix asked, voice hoarse as he cupped Tristan’s face between his hands.

“Syl sleep!” Tristan sobbed and Felix finally gathered him up, pulling him close, burying his face in dusty curls.

“It’s ok. I’ve got you now. It’s going to be ok. Lin’s going to help Syl wake up.” Felix turned to look at the mage. “He’s going to wake up right?”

“He’s lost a lot of blood.” Linhardt looked up at him. “But I’ve closed the wounds. Give me twenty minutes and he’ll be safe to travel.”

Felix shuffled on his knees to where he could reach a hand out to rest on Sylvain’s neck. He let it rest there a moment, feeling Sylvain’s pulse under his hand while the other clutched Tristan close. He basked in the proof that his little family was alive for a long moment before he pulled Tristan back, forcing a smile.

“Let’s get you cleaned up. We have a long journey ahead of us.”

\----------------------------------------

Sylvain’s first thought upon coming to consciousness was that he was sore.

His second thought was that he was moving.

He forced his eyes open and found himself staring up at the canvas cover of a wagon, sunlight dimmed as it filtered inside. He struggled to prop himself up on unsteady elbows to look around. It was a troop wagon, with a few rows of wooden benches, meant to move soldiers from one point to another faster than walking.

Sylvain was laying on one of the benches up against the wagon’s side. The rest were occupied by his slumbering friends.

Caspar was stretched out on one bench, Linhardt was stretched out on top of him. Annette was curled on another with at least three different cloaks piled on top of her despite the spring warmth. And Felix…

His Felix was not on a bench. He was slouched on the wagon floor next to Sylvain’s bench, head resting on the bench next to Sylvain’s calf. Tristan was snoozing in his lap and Felix had one arm wrapped firmly around him, the other resting on his sword.

“Hey.” Sylvain whispered, nudging him with a foot. “Hey gorgeous.”

Felix’s eyes popped open immediately, scanning quickly for danger before settling on Sylvain.

“You’re awake.” Felix breathed, sitting a little straighter.

“Does that surprise you?”

“You lost a lot of blood.” Felix let go of his sword in favor of gripping Sylvain’s hand. “What happened Sylvain?”

“You first.”

“Nine in the keep, including the one we killed in Tristan’s bedroom. They were Sreng but had nothing to prove they were sent by your father and I… didn’t leave any alive to interrogate.” Felix swallowed and squeezed his hand tighter “I thought you were safe. I took time to make plans with Humfery and… and I should have… If I had known you were in danger I would have-”

“Hey. Shhhh.” Sylvain cut him off, rubbing his thumb back and forth over the man’s knuckles. “There were only two of them. I took care of it.”

“Sylvain I found you unconscious in a puddle of your own blood. I thought… “ Felix choked. “I thought you were dead. And Tristan was _covered_ in blood and… I thought I’d lost you.”

“You lost nothing. I’m here, healthy as a horse.” Sylvain shot him a grin and felt immensely satisfied when the corner’s of Felix’s mouth ticked upward. “How’s our little man?”

“Scared shitless. Probably fucked up for life.”

“Well.” Sylvain chuckled. “He’s in the right family. Where are we anyway?”

“A couple hours outside Fraldarius. We got out before dawn. As far as anyone knows we’re all still holed up in the keep and Humfery will help keep that rumor alive. Hired a plain wagon… brought these idiots for protection. We’ll be in Fhirdiad within a week.” 

“And then what?” Sylvain asked.

“We do whatever it takes to bring your fucking father down.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This fic is turning out a lot longer than I thought it would. I hope none of you mind. It's mostly gunna be fluff wth... just a couple more angsty things from here on out.
> 
> And then.
> 
> The sequel if you want it XD


	13. Chapter 13

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Felix and Sylvain introduce Tristan to the King.

“This is not how I wanted this introduction to go.” Felix grumbled, kneeling down in front of Tristan, “You look like an orphan.”

“He is an orphan.” Sylvain chucked next to him.

“The council will be more likely to accept him as my heir if he already looks the part.”

“Feef. We’ve been traveling in the same clothes for six days. YOU don’t even look like a Fraldarius heir.”

Felix glared up at Sylvain. He was right of course. Being smashed in a wagon with four other people on a cross country trip had not done them any favors. They were beyond rumpled and dirty, caked in their own sweat, and probably smelled even worse than they looked. Sylvain had a decent start to a beard dusting his face, Tristan’s hair was so tangled you couldn’t run your fingers through it, and the only reason Felix’s hair WASN’T that tangled was because his now ear-length locks were so greasy that he feared standing too close to a torch might set him ablaze.

Still, Felix found himself frantically trying to pick apart Tristan’s curls.

“Felix.” Sylvain reached down and grabbed his hand, stopping him. “It’s not the council. It’s Dimitri. And he doesn’t care what we look like.”

“Though he might care what you  _ smell _ like.” A voice said from the doorway.

“Dimitri!” Sylvain spun and clasped their friend's arm, drawing him into a hug.

"Oh my friends, it is good to see you." Dimitri eagerly returned the embrace. "I feared the worst. We heard rumors of an attack and my messenger birds have gone unanswered. Did Annette make it to you?"

"Annette delivered your message. We have a LOT to talk about." Sylvain laughed, giving Dimitri's back a few pats before he pulled away. "But first… Your Majesty… I'd like to introduce you to someone."

Felix stood and lifted Tristan up into his arms just as Sylvain turned and gestured to them.

"This is our… little person. Tristan. Soon-to-be Fraldarius if we have our way."

Tristan, sensing that everyone's focus was now on him, turned to bury his face against Felix’s neck. 

Felix felt his own nervousness tug at his gut. Dimitri knew, of course, that they took Tristan in. They'd been exchanging letters about the situation ever since Felix had gotten his hands on ink and paper after being rescued. But Felix had never been that good at… describing his feelings at all, let alone in letters. 

He wasn't positive that Dimitri understood the  _ depth _ of his feelings for the boy. The king would have no way of knowing how much of Felix’s heart belonged to Tristan now because Felix had no idea how to put those words to paper.

Felix had no idea how the man was going to react. He HOPED that  _ friend _ Dimitri would be accepting, even supportive. But  _ king _ Dimitri might not have the same attitude. There was a part of him that was a little terrified the king would demand he send Tris back to alliance territory, tell him this was a stupid idea.

So when Dimitri took a step towards them, Felix found himself flinching on reflex, arm tightening around Tristan.

“Hello there." Dimitri said gently.

Tristan whined at the sound of the kings voice so close, his little fingers digging into Felix’s neck.

"Oh." Dimitri stepped back. "Is he alright?”

“He doesn’t do well with new people.” Felix explained in a low voice, cupping the back of Tristan’s head, running soothing fingers through his tangled hair.

“Annette made him cry for  _ hours _ . It took two days in the same wagon for him to warm up to her.” Sylvain chuckled. “He just needs some time.”

“And a bath.” Felix added. “He’s… fussy when he’s dirty.”

“I think you mean YOU’RE fussy when he’s dirty. He may not be officially ours yet, but Felix is already trying to mother him to death.”

“I am not mothering-”

“He’s worried you will be more opposed to us adopting Tris if he’s dirty.” Sylvain cut him off and continued. “Wanted to make a good impression.”

“ _ Sylvain.” _ Felix hissed.

“Opposed?!” Dimitri looked taken aback. “Felix you… you are my  _ family.  _ If this is the path you want to go down, then you have my full support.”

“I… do?” Felix looked uncharacteristically unsure. 

“Yes. You do.” Dimitri offered him a soft smile. “I’ll admit… if you had asked me a few months ago I wouldn’t have understood it and I probably WOULD have tried to talk you out of it. But… now I understand just how quickly you can fall in love with a little one and well… If what you feel is anything near to what I feel for my little Claire… then I wouldn’t be able to live with myself if I did anything but help you.”

Felix opened and shut his mouth a few times, trying to form the appropriate words. He failed and settled on a nod before turning his gaze away.

“We appreciate that Dimitri.” Sylvain said for him, stepping up next to Felix. He put his hand on Felix’s back and smiled. “More than you can imagine. Little bastards gone and stole our hearts.”

Dimitri smiled back before clearing his throat.

“I know it’s been a long journey for you all. I’ve had my people prepare the Fraldarius rooms for you and I’ll have a late dinner sent up. If you’re willing, I thought perhaps we could talk more over drinks in an hour or so? If that’s not too late.”

“We’d like that.” Sylvain nodded. It was too late, but he knew the both of them were eager to discuss certain… things with the king.

“Then I shall see you later.” Dimitri began to turn, but then paused. “It was an honor to meet you little Lord Tristan.”

\----------------------------------------

Sylvain hummed quietly to himself as he padded around the room. The wooden floors were surprisingly smooth and felt warm to his bare feet. As a child he’d always been jealous of the Fraldarius family. Their assigned rooms in the castle were right above the kitchens and always smelled of fresh bread and were warmed by the ovens. The Gautier rooms faced the exterior walls and were miserably cold no matter the time of year.

He supposed he had no reason to be jealous anymore as marrying Felix meant these rooms were going to be his now too.

Felix was going to be his… on paper and not just in his heart.

He tread lightly as he walked back to the cluster of arm chairs surrounding the hearth. Felix was curled up in one, legs hanging over the chairs arm. Tristan was nestled safely against his chest, tucked up as close to Felix as he could.

Both were completely dead to the world, snuffling and snoring softly.

Sylvain gently spread the blanket over them, careful not to wake them. 

They originally put Tristan down to sleep, then joined Dimitri for drinks in the little sitting room adjoined to the Fraldarius rooms. They made it through nearly an entire bottle of plum colored Albinean wine when the screaming started.

Felix had dashed off and was gone for nearly half an hour before he came back with a still snuffling Tristan in his arms.

“Another one?” Sylvain had asked.

“Another one.” Felix said, settling back down into the chair. Snuggled together next to the crackling warmth of the fire, the exhaustion caught up with them and both were asleep within minutes and Sylvain had stood to fetch the blanket.

“Another what?” Dimitri asked quietly when he came back with it.

“Nightmare.” Sylvain tucked an errant curl behind Tristan’s ear and pressed a gentle kiss to his temple before returning to the chair next to Dimitri. “He’s been having them… every night since we left Fraldarius.”

“Do they always involve such… screaming?”

“Yup.” Sylvain nodded and snatched the bottle from Dimitri. He drained the rest of its contents and sat it down on a side table while Dimitri opened another.

“I hope you will forgive me for saying I do hope Claire never goes through that. That was terrifying.”

“Well, then my first parenting tip would be to avoid getting stabbed in front of your kid… and avoiding killing people in front of her. And most definitely avoid bleeding out unconscious in front of her.”

“Gods. Sylvain did that happen?”

“The night of the attack.” Sylvain lifted his shirt to show the fading marks. “We escaped, but as unscathed as I would have hoped.”

“Are you alright?” 

“Yeah. Fine. Linhardt patched me up.”

“You don’t look alright.” Dimitri noted.

“I’m… worried Dim.” Sylvain sighed. “I mean… look at them.”

He waved his bottle in the direction of Felix and Tris. Tristan had wiggled his way up Felix’s torso and had smashed his face into Felix’s neck. Felix had shifted to accommodate him and his head was turned so that his lips were pressed to Tristan’s forehead.

“I’ve never been so happy. I never knew it was  _ possible  _ to be this happy. And… and my father wants to take it away from me.” Sylvain was surprised when he felt angry tears spring to his eyes. He was a little more drunk than he thought. “Not just take it away. He wants to  _ kill _ them.”

“He betrayed his  _ country _ to bring in assassins from our enemy just… just because I refused to be the perfect son he wanted. What am I supposed to do? I… it was easier when it was just me and Fe because Fe can defend himself but… Tris…”

Syvail reached and scrubbed angrily at his face with a shirt sleeve, trying to wipe away the tears that were coming.

“I have to protect him and I don't know  _ how. _ I  _ want  _ to ride to Gautier and slit the old man's throat. But what good does that do them if I get tossed in a jail cell? But sitting on my ass doing nothing is killing me Dimitri."

“You’re not doing nothing.” Dimitri sat up and smiled at him. “You just told me you single handedly fought off multiple assassins in his defense. And you got him safely here.”

“It was only two assassins and I got stabbed doing it. And I had no part in getting him here. I was laying in a wagon for most of the journey. I… I can’t even stop his nightmares like Felix can.”

“Do you love him?”

“Yeah. Yeah I do. So fucking much it hurts.”

“When Byleth… found out she was with child. I panicked.”

“Yes I seem to remember she had to drag you out of the throne room before anyone could see you’d passed out.” Sylvain chuckled. “But what’s your point?”

“The point is, we have faced down… demons and armies and  _ dragons _ and yet the idea of being a father was the most terrifying thing I could imagine. It still is. There are nights I can’t even hold her because I feel too...dirty for something so pure. But… when I do hold her… and she smiles at me, I know that what she needs most is not the perfect father or the perfect king. She needs me to love her. That is the best thing we can do for our children.”

“You’ve had a kid for two months longer than I have and suddenly you’re an expert?”

“What I’m saying, is that I think you’re already a better father than you think.” Dimitri sighed and stood up. “And I think it is time for me to get to bed. We will bring your father to justice Sylvain. We’ll protect your family. I’m posting guards outside your door. Just in case.”

“Thank you Dimitri. Really… thank you.”

Dimitri smiled before he slipped out into the castle.

Sylvain sat for a long while in front of the fire, sipping the last of the wine while he watched his little family. Tristan would flinch every so often in his sleep, face screwing up in distress. But everytime, Felix would mumble something in his sleep, his hand subconsciously smoothing over Tristan’s back.

_ He’s even good at it in his sleep _ , Sylvain thought to himself with a smile. He sighed and tossed the bottle aside, standing to gently scoop Tristan up. He carried him to their bed and then came back to lift his lover. 

Felix’s eyes cracked open and he sleepily peered up at him.

“Where’s ‘mitri.’ He mumbled.

“Gone. It’s late.”

“Tris?” Felix tensed, sounding worried. “Where’s Tris?”

“He’s already in our bed Feef.” Sylvain hushed. “Right where we can keep an eye on him”

“Mmmm. Good.” Felix relaxed.

Sylvain gently set him in the bed and by the time he was pulling up the blankets, Felix had already pulled Tristan close again, tucking the boy's head under his chin, seemingly already back asleep. But when Sylvain slipped in beside them, Felix’s hand found his under the blankets.

“Love you.” Felix muttered.

“I love you too.” Sylvain scooted close, burying his face into the top of Tristan’s curls. “Both of you.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And next, he meets Byleth and little baby princess Claire.
> 
> Y'all liking this ok so far?


	14. Chapter 14

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tristan meets Byleth.
> 
> Sylvain makes a rash decision.

Felix woke up early the next morning when his bladder decided he needed to use the bathroom suddenly and immediately. He had to detangle himself out from under both the bulky weight of his boyfriend and the monkey-like grip Tristan had around one of his arms.

He managed to get out of bed without waking Sylvain, but Tristan sleepily followed him into the bathroom, awkwardly dozing off against his side while Felix tried to relieve himself.

“Alright.” Felix scooped him up when he was finished. “Back to bed with you.”

“You stay?” Tristan asked, tucking his head against Felix’s shoulder.

“No. My friend left me some papers I need to read.” Felix started to lay him back down. “I’ll leave you with Syl.”

“No!” Tristan cried, tightening his hold around Felix’s neck. “No Tris stay wif Frix!”

“Shit, shit fine. Fine!” Felix gasped, tugging Tristan's arms away so he could breathe.

“No go!”

“Shhh shhhh.” Felix put a hand over his mouth. “Don’t wake Sylvain. You can stay with me ok? But only if you’re quiet. Got it?”

Tristan nodded.

Felix sighed and dropped his hand, looking over at Sylvain. The man was still out  _ cold _ , snoring like a damn beast, a puddle of drool dampening the pillow beneath his head. He had obviously drank a LOT more than Felix had, but even if he hadn’t… Felix wanted him to get as much sleep as possible.

Without interruption.

“How about we go for a walk then?” He suggested quietly. The fresh air would do them some good, and it would let Sylvain get a few more hours of sleep without the risk of a Tristan-related wake up.

He dressed himself quickly, then changed Tristan in one of the few outfits Annette had helped him pack onto the wagon before they fled. He grabbed the papers Dimitri had left him as well as a couple of Tristan’s toy wooden horses and stuffed them in a satchel. He strapped on his sword, then made sure he left Sylvain a note before grabbing Tristan’s hand and slipping out into the hall.

He nodded to the guards Dimiri had left them, instructing them to stay there and watch the room. He didn’t plan on leaving the private area of the castle complex and it was well guarded as it was.

He was glad that not many people were up and about this early. The… events of the last week had destroyed any progress they had made in getting Tristan to not be so skittish around unfamiliar people. He held his breath and buried his face against Felix’s leg whenever they passed a guard or maid. 

Luckily, the royal garden was abandoned and Felix managed to peel Tristan off his thigh. It was still far too early in spring for the flowers to be out in full display, but little colorful buds dotted branches here and there and the new grass was finally soft underfoot instead of dead and crunchy. It was warm enough that frogs had started coming back to the pond at the center of the garden and a couple big fat ones croaked at them from the low stone wall that surrounded the water.

“Here.” Felix dug the horses out and set them in the grass next to the wall. “You can play here.”

“Are they nice?” Tristan whispered, pointing at the frogs.

“Yeah. They won’t hurt you.”

“Can I look in the water?”

“Yeah. Just don’t fall in. I have no idea if you can swim or not and I’d rather wait until the water is warmer to find that out.”

“Ok.” 

Felix watched as Tristan shuffled over to the wall and peered over into the pond. When he was sure the boy was in no danger of falling in, he went to sit on a marble bench off to the side. He dug out his papers to read; a summary of the evidence Dimitri had collected against Sylvain’s father.

He only made it through the first page when his gaze was drawn back up to his ward.

Tristan was scooting one of his horses along the top of the wall toward one of the frogs. When he got close, the frog croaked and Tristan giggled, stomping his feet giddily before repeating the process down toward the other frog.

Felix couldn’t help but smile.  _ This _ was how he wanted Tristan to be. Happy, carefree. Just a kid playing with some frogs without a care in the world.

“Good morning.”

Felix jumped at the voice, and only familiarity kept his hand from flying to his sword. He looked up to find Byleth smiling down at him, tho his gaze quickly flitted to the bundle she held against her chest.

“May I sit?” Byleth asked.

“What? Oh, of course. Yes.” Felix shoved the satchel off the bench and scooted over. Byleth sat and arranged the baby more comfortably in her lap. "Good morning."

“I always thought you started the day training." Byleth noted.

"I do… usually. But your training grounds are always busy and he can't handle people at the moment. I couldn't leave him in our rooms because I'm trying to let Sylvain sleep. So… we went for a walk."

To his surprise, Byleth chuckled. Although in Byleth-terms of emotion it was more of an amused snort.

"What?" He huffed.

"It seems you and I have similar parenting strategies. I brought Claire out so Dimitri could sleep a while longer."

“Is it… particularly loud?” Felix narrowed his eyes at the baby. It was tiny and pink and  _ bald _ and Felix didn’t think it was capable of producing much noise. Tristan was way bigger and he was still quiet as a mouse… Though Felix supposed he wasn’t sure if size correlated to noise as far as children were concerned.

“SHE can be. She has her father’s lungs. If you had been at her official presentation to the court you would know.”

“Well excuse me. I might remind you that I was a little busy being shot, kidnapped, and  _ starved _ while you were parading your spawn around.”

“That wasn’t meant to be an attack Felix. I meant you were lucky enough not to bear witness to the most horrific council meeting we’ve ever had.” Byleth turned to him. “I am sorry. If she had just waited a little longer to come than Dimitri would have been able to go to Derdriu himself.”

“No. I… I uh…I supposed I should thank her.” Felix gestured to the baby. “For coming when she did. Even with everything I went through… If I hadn’t gone I wouldn’t have met him.”

Felix turned his attention back to Tristan. If the boy had noticed Byleth’s presence, he wasn’t reacting to it. He was still fully engrossed with the frogs, giggling as he worked up the bravery to poke one.

“The infamous orphan that turned Felix Fraldarius’ heart to mush.” 

“It is  _ not _ mush.” Felix shot her a glare.

She leveled him a knowing look.

“Its… Fine. He’s made me  _ slightly _ more soft.” Felix huffed. “But I’m still hard.”

“Oh?” Byleth didn’t even bother hiding her smirk.

“If you weren’t holding a baby I’d fucking hit you right now.”

“Would you like to hold her?”

“A-absolutely not!” Felix sputtered at the sudden topic shift.

“Consider it a training exercise.” Byleth gave him no warning before pushing the bundle into his arms.

“NO no no no no!” Felix tried to protest but before he knew it, Byleth had already sat back, leaving him with the baby. “Uh. UH!”

“Relax, support her head.” Byleth reached over and adjusted his hold.

“Take her.  _ Take her. _ ” Felix hissed. “I’m going to drop her.  _ Byleth.” _

“You’re doing great.” Byleth let out her snort again. “Look, she likes you.”

Felix looked down. The little princess was blinking at him with  _ huge _ ice blue eyes.  _ Dimitri’s eyes _ , he thought. She was calm as ever despite the fact that the person holding her was rapidly descending into panic. Felix felt  _ ill. _ He should NOT be touching something this small. Fuck and he thought  _ Tristan _ was fragile.

“Byleth-” He began to whine when a little voice suddenly spoke from his other side.

“Who dis?”’

It took every fiber of his being not to jump and accidentally fling the baby at Tristan’s sudden arrival. He hauled himself up on the marble bench and knelt, peering over Felix’s arm at Byleth.

“This is my friend Byleth. And this is Claire.”

“By-wif and Care.”

“Yeah.” Felix nodded. He was still too nervous about holding the baby to even comment on the adorable mispronunciation of their names.

“Why Care little?”

“She’s a baby.” Felix croaked.

“Oh!” Tristan leaned his cheek against him. “Mama got a baby in her tummy.”

“W-what?” Felix tilted his head down to stare at his ward.

“In her  _ tummy. _ ” Tristan emphasized his explanation by patting his stomach. “Tris will be big brother!”

“Oh… oh my god.” Felix let out a breath of horror. “By please-”

“Yep. Yep.” Byleth didn’t offer any argument this time, reaching over to take the baby back. Felix wasted no time, slipping off the bench to kneel in front of Tristan. The morning dew still on the grass soaked through his knees as he reached forward to grab the boys hands.

“Your… Your mom had a baby in her tummy?”

Tristan nodded.

Felix fell back onto his haunches in disbelief, glancing up at Byleth.

“She was pregnant.” He stated the obvious. “Marianne talked to people in her village but no one could figure out why she finally decided to leave. She left because she was  _ pregnant. _ ”

He groaned and buried his face in Tristan’s lap.

“She was  _ pregnant _ and I left her in the fucking river. I  _ left _ her.” His voice was strained and sounded near tears.

“Felix.” Byleth reached over and placed a hand on his shoulder. “It’s… heartbreaking. But from what I’ve read, you didn’t have a choice. She knew she wouldn’t make it and chose to focus on getting Tristan out instead. You saved her son. As a mother… if I knew I was dying, I couldn’t ask for more.”

“I should have tried.”

“And gotten all of you killed in the process? You made the best out of an impossible situation. Tristan would have died a cold and  _ terrible  _ death. He’s alive because of you. He’s safe because of you.”

Felix shrugged her hand off, but was otherwise silent. He kept his own head smashed against Tristan’s leg.

“Um Frix?” Tristan tapped Felix on the head. “Frix sad?”

“I’m fine.” 

“Um… Does Frix need Syl kisses?”

THAT got Felix’s attention. He looked up with a sad smile and let out a chuckle. 

“No I do not need Syl kisses. Just Tris hugs.” He held out his arms and Tristan slid off the bench to hug him back, tightly winding his arms around Felix’s neck. Felix cupped the back of his head and held him close. The guilt of this new-found information weighed  _ heavily  _ on his conscience but this… he would try to be content with this.

“Oh Felix. He  _ has _ made you soft.” Byleth’s voice wasn’t teasing at all, full of admiration.

“I know.”

He did know. And really? He couldn’t bring himself to care.

\-------------------------------------

The next few days were… hard.

They decided that the council would be more likely to vote in favor of their petition to adopt Tristan if the Margrave Gautier was officially OFF the council.

Which meant they needed to throw themselves into helping Dimitri finalize his case against the Margrave so that he could be arrested.

It wasn’t pleasant. Felix was disgusted to learn Dimitri had evidence of things the Margrave had done that Felix hadn’t known about. Things that made him keep Tristan in their bed at night, things that made him keep Tristan right by his side, not even letting Linhardt or Caspar watch him throughout the day.

It wasn’t even just his little… family that the Margrave had put in jeopardy. Sylvain turned nearly as pale as a sheet when Dimitri showed them a letter his spies had intercepted that revealed the Margrave had attempted to coax his hired Srengi assassins into infiltrating the capital and taking out Dimitri himself.

“Guess Miklan took after the old man eh?” Sylvain’s chuckle was hollow and joyless. “Going evil with jealousy… power hungry… Appears to be unfortunately genetic.”

“You’re not your father.” Felix looked up from the  _ growing _ list of formal charges they would be bringing against Sylvain’s father. Dimitri had stepped out to handle some royal business, leaving the two of them alone… or three if you counted Tristan.

Tristan was sitting on the floor with parchment of his own. Mercedes had gifted the boy a few pots of paint and some brushes when she had met him and Tristan had fallen in love. Although he was currently forgoing use of the brushes in favor of smearing lines and poking dots of paint around the paper with his fingers.

Sylvain was watching him and it broke Felix’s heart that not even the  _ adorable _ scene could bring a smile to his partner's face.

“Sylvain.” Felix said again.

“Huh?” 

“You are NOT your father and you never will be. Stop thinking like that or I’ll thump you.”

“Sorry. I know. I know I just… The uh… you know what the sentence for this kind of crime is going to be.”

Felix did. This was… this was treason and they had evidence of attempted assassination plots against the king. The Margrave Gautier would be executed if he was found guilty and with Dimitri’s thorough investigation… he no doubt would be.

“You’re conflicted about it.” Felix said, more of a statement than a question.

“He deserves it, don’t get me wrong.” Sylvain let out another hollow chuckle. “You know I’d kill him myself if I got the chance. It just...sucks.”

“I know. You should take a break.” Felix offered him a sympathetic smile, then went back to his work. If Sylvain wanted to talk about it he would, Felix figured it would be better to leave him alone until that happened. Sylvain just sighed and dragged himself over to sit next to Tristan. Before long Tristan managed to shock a giggle out of the man and Sylvain quickly found himself adding his own paint handprints next to Tristan’s little ones.

Dimitri returned after a little while, bringing Byleth with him, their baby left in the care of her nursemaids. They went over a few more details, got everything onto paper, and then… they were done.

“Alright. Now we just have to… send a squad to Gautier to… arrest him.” Dimitri stood.

“You need to send someone you  _ trust. _ ” Felix chimed in. “We can’t risk him knowing they’re coming. If he finds out he may run.”

“It would look suspicious if you sent a squad of soldiers with seemingly no reason into his lands though.” Byleth sat on the top of the desk in the room, crossing her arms. “He’ll know something is up.”

“Send me.”

Felix, Byleth, and Dimitri all looked over to where Sylvain and Tristan were painting.

“Send me.” Sylvain stood. “For all my father would know I’m just popping in for a visit or something.”

“What!? He’s actively trying to kill you. You are not going.” Felix argued.

“He’s trying to kill YOU.” Sylvain pointed out. “My name’s never been mentioned in any of the documents we’ve found.”

“It does make tactical sense.” Dimitri mused, reaching up to rub his chin. “Though I would never let you go alone.”

“Then you’re taking me with you.” Felix said firmly.

“And leave Tristan alone? No. I’ll go. I can take Annette and Caspar. They’re more than enough backup.”

“This might not be a bad plan.” Byleth agreed. “I could have some of my own uh… operatives in the church start a rumor that you’re going there to seek his blessing on the adoption or something. I think this actually might be our best course of action.”

“Then we’ll do it.” Dimitri said. “It needs to be done quickly though.”

“I can leave tomorrow.”

“Then it’s decided.” Dimitri smiled and started gathering up his papers. Byleth started moving to the door, and Felix was still staring angrily at Sylvain.

“I have a condition though.” Sylvain smiled at Felix.

“What condition?” Felix narrowed his eyes suspiciously. “You’re the one that offered to go!”

“Marry me.”

“What?” Felix blinked. “I already said yes you idiot.”

“No. I mean right now. Marry me Felix Fraldarius.”

“Are you… Are you insane?” Felix was beginning to flush, pink painting his cheeks.

“I’m serious.” Sylvain walked over and planted himself in front of Felix. “Marry me.”

“We cannot just… get married right  _ now. _ ”

“Why not? We literally have the archbishop of our church right here. She can officiate. Dimitri, our  _ best friend _ , can be our witness. You never wanted pomp and circumstance anyway Fe. Marry me.”

“Romantic.” Byleth chuckled. “I’m in.”

Felix shot her a glare, then whipped his gaze back to Sylvain.

“Why?”

“Felix my last name is the only shred of power my father still holds over me. Let me walk into his territory a free man. Let me face him as the freakin Duchess of Fraldarius. I want him to know, without a doubt, that I chose love over anything else..” Sylvain held out a hand, covered in yellow paint. “Marry me.”

Felix stared at him and Sylvain could practically see the wheels of his mind turning, searching for any reason to say no. 

Evidently he came up short.

“Byleth?” Felix asked. 

“Yes?”

“Make it… fucking quick. God this is embarrassing Sylvain.” Despite his words, Felix smiled as he reached out to grab Sylvain’s hand, paint be damned.

“Right. I’ve never done this so pardon my inexperience.” Byleth stepped in front of them and motioned Dimitri to come nearer as well.

Felix was  _ mortified _ to see that Dimitri had  _ tears _ in his eyes and they hadn’t even started this shit show.

“We are gathered here today-” Byleth began.

“The fucking abbreviated version please.” Felix hissed. 

Sylvain grinned wider if possible.

“Fine. Felix do you take this man to be your… husband. In good times and bad, sickness and in health and uh… something about honor?”

“Yes.” Felix wanted desperately to stare at the ground, but he couldn’t rip his gaze away from Sylvain. This was happening. This was really happening.

“Sylvain, same question?”

“With all my heart.” 

“Right. You have declared your consent before the church. May the Goddess bless this union in this life and the next. What she has joined, men can not tear asunder. I think that’s how it goes.” Byleth smiled. “You can kiss now.”

Dimitri let out a sob.

And Sylvain let go of Felix’s hand in order to grab the man’s face between his palms. He yanked Felix up to him and pressed their lips together. It was quite possibly the  _ worst _ kiss they’d ever shared because Sylvain couldn’t stop grinning, yet Felix couldn’t remember a kiss leaving him so breathless or elated.

He couldn’t stop his own smile and pretty soon their kiss was less of a kiss and more them just grinning against each other.

“Oops.” Sylvain whispered as they pulled apart.

“Do not say oops after you’ve forced me to marry you.” Felix couldn’t stop smiling, fuck his cheeks were starting to hurt.

“I meant oops because you’re covered in paint now.” Sylvain chuckled, reaching out to where he’d accidentally left two yellow handprints on the sides of Felix’s face.

Felix looked down at his hand, it was covered in yellow from when they’d held hands before. He smirked and reached up to swipe his hand over Sylvain’s face, smearing a bit of the yellow across one of his  _ husband’s  _ cheeks.

“Now we’re even.” Felix leaned up to kiss him again.

“Most couples get matching rings.”

“We’re not most couples.”

“God I love you.” Sylvain ducked his head for another kiss, and another, tilting his head to deepen it. Felix groaned and buried his fingers in Sylvain’s hair, pulling him impossibly closer.

“Um. Could you maybe save the wedding night for when we’re not here?” 

Felix shoved Sylvain away from himself, turning beet red with embarrassment. He turned to apologize to Byleth and Dimitri when he noticed the tears streaming down Dimitri’s face.

“Are you  _ crying?!” _

“I apologize.” Dimitri sniffed. “I just.. To see you both so happy and to get to be a part of this journey with you-”

“Get out.” Felix pointed at the door.

“Parenthood has made him soft as well. We will leave you to it.” Byleth smiled and grabbed her husband's arm. “I’ll have Caspar and Annette meet you at the stables after first bell tomorrow morning. Congratulations, you two deserve to be happy. I’ll also uh… tell the guards to stand a little further away from your doors tonight.”

She smiled at them both before hauling Dimitri out of the room. Felix waited until they were gone before he turned back to Sylvain.

“You foolish,  _ crazy  _ man.” He breathed before launching himself at the taller man again.

“ _ Your _ foolish crazy man.” Sylvain gasped between kisses. “Your husband.”

“Mine.” Felix echoed, biting into the skin of Sylvain’s neck, leaving a mark to prove his ownership. “ _ Mine.” _

Sylvain let out a  _ sinful _ sound and reached down to grab Felix’s hip, yelping when his hand met hair instead. 

“Tris?” Sylvain and Felix looked down. Tristan was standing at Felix’s side, grinning up at them. His face was  _ covered _ in blue paint.

“I do my face too!” He said proudly.

The husbands shared a look before bursting into laughter. Felix picked Tristan up and Sylvain wrapped his arms around them both, kissing Felix’s temple before burying his face into Felix’s short hair.

“I love you Felix Fraldarius.” 

“I love you Sylvain… Fraldarius.”

“I like the sound of that.”

“Me too.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I uh... got a little carried away.
> 
> Was that awful? XD XD XD XD


	15. Chapter 15

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Not the wedding night Felix imagined.

It wasn’t the wedding night Felix had imagined.

He had always thought, the few times he allowed himself to imagine getting married to Sylvain, that his wedding night would involve locking themselves in their room, tying Sylvain to the bed, and not leaving until the threat of actual starvation drove them into the outside world..

They had TRIED to… celebrate, or rather  _ consummate _ , their marriage. They’d put Tristan to bed in their bed and then threw themselves at each other out on the fur rug in the sitting room. The fire crackled behind them as desperation took over and Sylvian pinned Felix’s ams above him.

The redhead had just begun to undo the ties on Felix’s trousers when Tristan began screaming.

“Oh for  _ fucks  _ sake.” Felix groaned, letting his head fall back.

“Perhaps it will pass and he’ll fall back asleep?” Sylvain suggested breathlessly. Felix opened his mouth to retort when the screams morphed into actual words.

“SYL! SYL NO SYL! NO! NO! SYL! PEAS!!”

Sylvain and Felix blinked at each other. In all his now-frequent nightmares, Tristan had never cried out for Sylvain. He loved the other man to death, but Felix was the primary one he sought out for comfort. 

Sylvain scrambled off of Felix, practically  _ sprinting  _ toward their bedroom. They threw open the door, firelight spilling in to illuminate Tristan clutching one of the bedposts, trembling so hard the bed frame was shaking.

Tristan caught sight of them and sobbed. He tried to slide off the bed, but got tangled in the sheets and fell to the ground with a thunk.

“Oh.” Sylvain gasped, diving for him. “Goddess kiddo! It’s ok!”

Tristan wailed into his chest as Sylvain scooped him up and held him close. He began rocking him back and forth as Felix knelt beside them.

“Don’t leave Tris in dark! Peas peas! Syl peas!” Tristan sobbed. “The bad guy will get Tris!”

“No no no no no.” Sylvain hushed him, “We’re not leaving you. There’s no bad guys.”

“ _ Peas."  _ Tristan’s little hands were fisted ever so tightly in Sylvain’s shirt and he was still shaking like a leaf. Sylvain did his best to calm him down, running his fingers through Tristan’s curls and pressing kisses to the top of his head.

“We’re right here kid. I’m here.” Sylvain whispered before looking up at Felix. “I think we might need to reschedule.”

Felix just sighed and walked off to the bathroom. When he came back, Sylvain was standing, swaying back and forth with Tristan cradled against his chest. His strong hands were rubbing soothing circles into Tristan’s back and something about the image made Felix’s throat feel suddenly tight.

“What did your parents do?” Sylvain asked quietly. “When you had nightmares.”

“I…” Felix cleared his throat and stepped up to them. He gently pulled Tristan into his own arms. “You need to pack Sylvain.”

“Fine.” Sylvain chucked and threw up his hands. “No meaningful conversations. I get it.”

He kissed the top of Tristan’s head and Felix’s cheek before he moved to grab a canvas bag, shoving the spare clothes he would need for his short trip inside.

Felix sat on the bed and shifted Tristan to his lap. The kid was trying so desperately to keep his eyes open, scared to fall back to sleep. But when Felix began running a couple fingers back and forth over the shell of Tristan’s ear, he was out in seconds, succumbing to sleep in the safety of his Frix’s arms.

Felix smiled at him. It was… still unfathomable that a person like him could ever enjoy being a parent and yet here he was… so ridiculously in love with this little boy that not being able to fix his nightmares was killing him.

“I didn’t want to bother them.” Felix said quietly, after a moment.

“Huh?” Sylvain looked up from where he was folding a pair of socks.

“When I had nightmares.” Felix clarified. “I was too scared to bother my parents. I used to go to Glenn’s room and tap on his feet until he woke up. He’d always let me sleep with him, no questions asked. After he died… I’d go down and train until I passed out.”

“Well that sounds healthy.” Sylvain snorted.

“What did you do?”

“It… wasn’t pretty. I think I remember waking up my parents once to tell them I was scared. My dad just smacked me and told me Gautier men weren’t afraid. And uh… if Miklan… heard me crying over a dream he would lock me in a wardrobe to shut me up so he could sleep. I kind of learned to suffer in silence after a while.”

“Well that sounds healthy.” Felix teased, looking at him with a sad smile. “At least we know what NOT to do I guess.”

Sylvain smiled back, and strode over to him. He cupped Felix’s face between his palms and leaned down to kiss him soundly on the mouth. 

“When I get back, we are letting Linhardt babysit and you and I are having a real wedding night.” Sylvain whispered, running his thumb over Felix’s bottom lip when he pulled back.

“Just one?” 

“Maybe two. Depending on if you can keep up.” Sylvain grinned wickedly.

“I have  _ never _ been the one with stamina problems.” Felix swatted at him. “Get your ass into bed. You have an early morning.”

“You’ll see me off like a dutiful husband won’t you?”

Felix opened his mouth to retort, but the words got jumbled as his mind chose to focus on the word  _ husband _ instead.

He took a shuddering breath.

He had a  _ husband _ . He was married. He had a kid. 

_ Holy shit. _

“Feef?”

“Yeah. Yeah of course I’ll see you off you big idiot.”

\---------------------------------------------

Felix didn’t sleep a wink the entire night. He loved them both dearly but Sylvain and Tristan both seemed to run warm and sleeping squished with them both was like sleeping in a furnace. The heat, totally not his own anxiety, kept him up. 

So he just laid there, listening to the snuffles and snores of his family until Tristan lifted his head blearily just when the sky began to turn a lighter shade of blue, warning of the approaching dawn.

“Good morning.” Felix said quietly.

“Pottyyyyyy.” Tristan whined.

“Yeah yeah.” Felix rolled off the bed and helped Tristan down. He kept one eye on the boy in their little lavatory as he got dressed.

“What time’s it?” Sylvain asked with a louder-than-necessary yawn.

“You have an hour till first bell. You should get ready.”

“Where you going?”

“I need to drop him off with Byleth and run an errand. I’ll meet you at the stables.”

“Mmmmm.” Sylvain grunted.

“Don’t be late Sylvain.”

“Wont.” Sylvain dropped his head back to the pillow and listened as as they left the room.

\-------------------------------------------

Sylvain was tempted to let himself drift back to sleep. He’d never been much of a morning person, even less so when he had to get up to do something he very much did not want to do… but he did  _ have _ to so after a few minutes he peeled himself off the sheets and slugged around to get dressed and grab his gear.

The idea of eating breakfast turned his stomach a bit, so he skipped visiting the kitchens, instead heading straight to the stables. Annette and Caspar were already there, Caspar saddling horses whilst Annette slumped sleepily on a bale of hay. 

“Morning.” He grunted, moving to a horse of his own. “You both look like shit.”

“I haven’t been awake this early in… a long time.” Caspar said with a yawn. “Living with Lin kind of means sleeping in.”

“Sorry.”

“Don’t be. It’s nice to be going on a mission again.” Caspar smiled at him, then returned to the horses. When they were saddled, he dragged Annette off to go grab the arrest papers they needed from Dimitri’s clerk, leaving Sylvain alone in the stables.

Sylvain was just finishing tying down his last saddlebag when Felix showed up, Tristan in tow. He held the boys hand firmly, but kept his other hand wrapped around his sword hilt and was visibly anxious about being outside the castle walls. He relaxed a little as they stepped into the stable.

“I was beginning to think you weren’t coming.” Sylvain turned towards them. “And you brought Tris… thought you were leaving him with Byleth.”

“Didn’t want to risk it.” Felix explained. “Besides, he wanted to say his own goodbyes.”

“Ok?” Sylvain chuckled and took a step forward but stopped when Felix held up a hand. He watched, eyebrow raised as Felix knelt down and urged Tristan forward.

“Go on. Just like we practiced.” Felix encouraged him with a soft smile. Tristan looked over at Sylvain, then back at Felix, his little face riddled with hesitation.

“You can do it. Come on, shoo.” Felix gave him a slight push toward Sylvain and Tristan stumbled awkwardly toward the redhead.

“What’s going on?” Sylvain asked, squatting down to Tristan’s level as well. He reached out and took Tristan’s hands.

“Give him a minute. He wants to tell you something.”

“Ok….” Sylvain turned back to Tristan, squeezing his hands. “What is it kiddo?”

“Um… Um I say to come home safe and Tris wuvs you… Papa.”

Tristan forced a wobbly smile but all Sylvain could do was stare, his mouth dropping open slightly. The boy’s face fell the longer Sylvain remained silent, and after a minute he turned back to Felix.

“I… do it right?”

“You did it perfectly. Maybe he didn’t hear you.” Felix grinned. “Tell him again.”

Tristan nodded and turned back to Sylvain.

“I love you Papa.” He said quietly, wringing his little hands together nervously. This time, Sylvain reacted instantly. The man collapsed fully onto his knees and let out the smallest sob. He reached out to pull Tristan into his arms.

“I love you too. Papa loves you too.” He bumped their noses together and laughed, tears filling up his eyes. It… he never really considered that Tristan would call him anything other than Sylvain or… Syl, let alone Papa. It made him feel  _ warm _ .

“I thought you might like that.”

Sylvain looked over to see Felix smiling smugly at him.

“I… I love it Felix.”

“I know it’s not official yet… but… you are already twice the father yours ever was. And I thought you should know that before you go.” Felix’s smirk dropped and he suddenly seemed… hesitant. “There’s uh… something I’d like to do too.”

“Okay?” Sylvain kissed Tristan’s forehead before standing up. “Something else I’ll like?”

“I don’t know.” Felix’s voice was uncharacteristically unsure… and it made Sylvain uncomfortable for some reason, flinching as Felix moved towards him. “I hope.”

Sylvain held his breath as Felix stepped closer. His husband’s nimble fingers unfastened the plain brass pin from his cloak and tossed it to the side, letting the maroon cloak flutter to the ground. 

Felix replaced it with the cloak from his own shoulders, but instead of fastening it with his own pin, he pulled a new one from his pocket. Sylvain could only see a flash of silver from this angle, but watched as a blush crept over the tops of Felix’s ears and his cheeks as he pinned it to Sylvain.

“Felix?” Sylvain tried and failed miserably to keep the amusement from his voice. “Was there something wrong with my cloak?”

“You’re a Fraldarius now. You should wear our colors.” Felix grumbled as he took a step back, refusing to make eye contact. 

Sylvain craned his neck to look down, finally getting a good look at the clasp. It was nearly identical to the one Felix wore, shaped like the Aegis shield and intricately carved with the crest of Fraldarius. But where the center circular part was, a single blue gem was embedded.

“Felix what is this?”

“It’s aquamarine. It um… we don’t have rings yet.” Felix looked up at him and Sylvain almost gasped at tears he saw in his gaze. “But um… it’s like you said, I’m not letting you face your father without proof that you don’t belong to him anymore. You’re mine Sylvain. Mine. Mine and Tristan’s ok? You belong to us. And you better  _ fucking _ come back to us.”

“Oh  _ darling.” _ Sylvain lurched forward and wrapped him up. Felix remained stiff for a few seconds before he slowly wound his arms up around Sylvain’s shoulders and buried his face against his neck. Sylvain nuzzled against the side of his head, squeezing him as tight as possible. “I’m coming back baby. Of course I’m coming back. You should know by now that nothing in this world could keep me from you.”

Felix remained silent, just clinging to him. Sylvain let his eyes flutter shut, desperate to savor the moment. Holding Felix had always been one of his most favorite things. feeling the strength of his lover soften just a bit as he melted into Sylvain’s arms. Knowing that Felix chose him,  _ loved  _ him and loved him no matter  _ what. _ It was overwhelming and Sylvain had to pull away before he broke down.

“Him calling me Papa… You being adorable like this? It’s liable to give a man a heart attack Feef.” Sylvain chuckled and reached up to cup the side of Felix’s face. “Where’d you get this pin anyway?”

“It belonged to my mother.”

“What? Felix I can’t accept this-”

“My father gave it to her when they got married. It’s mine to give now and I’m giving it to you. Now shut up.”

“Okay, okay!” Sylvain drew him in for a lingering kiss. He pressed their foreheads together as they pulled apart. “Have I ever told you how perfect you are?”

“Please stop. You’re not going to war. This is too fucking sentimental.”

“Says the man who got our kid to call me Papa and gave me his mother’s-”

“Shut up!” Felix shoved him back. “Just fucking leave.”

Sylvain chuckled as he stepped over to kneel by Tristan once more, cupping the kids face between his palms.

“Take care of our Frix for me ok?”

“Okay. You come back?”

“Yea, I’ll be back soon.” Sylvain booped his nose. “I love you.”

“I wuv you too!” Tristan’s face scrunched up in the most ridiculously dorky yet  _ adorable _ smile. 

_ I can’t believe this kid is mine _ , Sylvain thought fondly as he kissed Tristan’s forehead before straightening. Felix moved to lift the boy up, propping him up on the hip. Sylvain took a moment to just stare at them, smiling the whole time.  _ I cant believe THEY are mine. _

“I’ll be back in a few days.” He had to stop himself from hugging them again, knowing it would just make it harder to leave them. It was already painfully hard, especially knowing what he was leaving them for. “And when I get back, we’re teaching him to call you Dad.”

\---------------------------------------

It was hard to watch him leave.

It was always hard to watch him leave. They belonged together, watching each other's backs, bolstering their strengths and defending each other’s weaknesses. 

When this was over… Felix wasn’t going to let him out of his sight for a month minimum. He’d talk Dimitri into letting them borrow the Blaiddyd summer home. They could teach Tristan to swim and show him all the places on the beach where they used to play. Fuck… they could show him how to fish and when Tristan fell asleep… well they could have sort of a honeymoon...

“Papa Syl come back wight?” Tristan interrupted his thoughts, tugging on his tunic. Felix tore his gaze away from the street Sylvain had disappeared down and smiled down at him.

“Of course he will.” Felix lifted him up and bumped their heads together before propping him up on his up. “He’s got a family to come back to now.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Guys... I keep getting carried away with teh fluff. Sylvain was supposed to make it all the way to Gautier in this chapter...
> 
> Also. I placed a very subtle hint in this chapter for the Linhardt/Caspar fic I eventually want to write


End file.
